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captain039 · 3 years

Text

We can take care of each other PART 3

Hank x reader x Connor

Warnings: ABO, poly relationship, swearing, police things, Intimate, sexual, harassment, Daddy Hank, anxiety, angst

Previous chapter <-

PART 3

You awoke to Hanks phone ringing and him cursing it as he answered.

“What?” He grumbled as you heard a distant voice. You hadn’t moved from your spot on Connor. You yawned and rolled onto your back stretching.

“Did you sleep well detective?” He asked and you nodded dazed.

“Can’t Reed handle it the pricks there” Hank snapped.

“Yeah, whatever” he hung up and laid back down.

“Assholes” he muttered and you chuckled softly. He laid down with a soft thud from the mattress. You still cuddled into Connor he must’ve put his heaters on or something because you were toasty warm.

“Did you put your heaters on?” You asked.

“Is it too warm?” Connor asked and you shook your head.

“No, just making me not wanna move” you chuckled.

“Fine by me” Hank sighed as you heard Sumo bark.

“There isn’t enough room buddy” Hank said and you heard Sumo whine.

“Aw, Sumo” you sat up slowly crossing your legs and pet the bed lightly. He jumped up, in your face licking and making weird noises. You laughed trying to control the big beast as he finally laid down.

“What time is it?” You asked frowning.

“It’s currently 2:33 pm” Connor said.

“Geez” you said realising you had napped for a while.

“You were rather exhausted detective” Connor said and you flushed. You glanced to Hank who smirked almost proud and you glared slightly huffing. Hank was relaxed for once, a small smile on his lips, eyes closed as he leant against the head rest, his breathing even and his scent inviting. You leant back to lean against his side and he chuckled softly.

“My phone on your table?” You asked and he grunted handing it to you.

“Thanks” you said opening it. You had a few messages and emails but ignored them for now as you scrolled through social media. Connor sat up also, stiff in his movements and not relaxing back, you guess he didn’t need to relax back his body wouldn’t hurt. Hanks arm draped around your middle while Connor stared.

“What are you doing?” Hank asked.

“In a sense I’m making a memory” Connor said.

“I can record certain things and save them” he added.

“You show this to anyone-“ you elbowed him gently.

“Thank you detective” Connor smiled and you smirked.

“Great” Hank sighed.

“Two against the old grumpy alpha” he grumbled and you laughed. Connor cracked a grin, laughing wasn’t his strongest suit yet.

The day went on with you staying in Hanks bed. You had relaxed and calmed down after what had happened this morning, you were content in the soft blanket and leaning against Hank. Connor made you some food which was nice before sitting down again. It was going smoothly till your job demanded attention.

You all headed to the crime scene three stabbings in a club. Upon entering the room you gulped it was a private room on the sex side of the club. One android, two humans. The android was in the corner looking beat up and ruined by a bat or something, then stabbed, the two humans were on the other wall with stab wounds on their chest area. You got their identity’s, the android was called Kyla the humans were Mason and Fay. Kyla was designed as a sex robot and stayed that way voluntarily. The other two were also workers here Fay a beta and Mason an omega.

“What you got Connor?” Hank called as Connor stood by the door analysing.

“It was the android that went first, hit with the bat then stabbed on that wall, the other two tried to stop it, signs of struggle, possible fight before being stabbed themselves” Connor said as he walked to the android and looked over it.

“I can probe it’s memory to see what happened” he said.

“Go ahead” Hank said leaving the room to brief. You looked over the body’s again, there was a fight, something had gone very wrong or the killer just got his victims in one room perfectly.

“The android wasn’t supposed to be here” Connor spoke.

“How come?” You asked as he stood.

“The android came in to check on the suspicious noise before being dragged in and beaten to death” you sighed nodding, poor thing.

“Any traces where our killer went or who they are?” You asked.

“There are traces of DNA under the victims nails, matching a Gen Collins” you nodded.

“Send me her information” you said grabbing a spare tablet. You looked through her profile, 30, alpha female, she was tall and built like she was in military. You glanced through her past, she was in military, got kicked out for violent tendencies. She’s been prescribed by a doctor for anger management medication and therapy though she never took.

“We got one anger issued alpha on the run “ you sighed to Hank.

“Yep” he grumbled.

“We got any leads?” He asked as Connor came over.

“Not yet” Connor said and you and Hank nodded.

“Right come on” Hank said to you and Connor and you both followed.

Back at the station you all went through files hoping to find her whereabouts, she was no doubt dangerous and pissed about something.

You were at your desk for hours, it was nighttime when you decided to look outside. You stopped your task and leant back stretching. Your back popped slightly and you sighed hunching back over before sitting up. Connor came over to you and you gave him your attention.

“Are you alright detective?” He asked a slight frown on his face.

“I’m alright” you smiled.

“I need food and a shower though” you said yawning.

“I’ll drive you home” Hank said from his desk.

“You got anything?” You asked talking about the case.

“A whole lot of fuck all” he grumbled shutting down the screen and stretching.

“I need a drink” he grumbled making you chuckle.

“Home it is” you said shutting off your screen also and standing.

Hank dropped you off like he said, Connor following you in your house again while Hank drove off.

“He’ll be ok, won’t be?” You asked hanging your coat up.

“I do believe the Lieutenant has cut down on drinking, so, yes he will” Connor assured and you nodded. You shook your head laughing slightly as you took out a quick microwave meal.

You sat and ate happy to get some food in your stomach even if it tasted horrible. Connor sat and watched TV, well at least you think he was.

“I’m gonna have a shower” you called placing your rubbish in the bin.

“Ok” was all Connor said and you nodded.

You washed and dried before getting dressed into your PJ’s, Connor was still on the couch. You stood by him but he hadn’t taken notice.

“Connor?” You asked, he blinked and looked to you.

“Sorry detective” he said.

“It’s alright” you chuckled.

“You ok?” You asked.

“Yes, just going through some files is all, I apologise” you shook your head and sat by him.

“Don’t apologise” you smiled.

“Find anything?” You asked curiously.

“It wasn’t for the case” he admitted and you frowned curious.

“What was it for?” You asked head tilting.

“If you wanna tell me” you added. If you didn’t know any better you’d say the blue in his cheeks represented a blush.

“I am required to fulfill my roll in taking care of you and Hank both emotionally and physically” you flushed a little as he spoke.

“You don’t have to take care of us, we take care of each other” you said.

“It’s not all on you, I’m just not good with this” you sighed.

“It’s new to me and though Hank was-“ you flushed remembering what happened earlier.

“Eager, we’re gonna have some issues” you mumbled.

“What issues?” Connor asked frowning slightly.

“Well me, I overthink overthinking, Hank Is insecure even if he doesn’t admit it, I’m trying to please both you and Hank, Hanks the only one with experience!” you rambled a bit realising you hadn’t thought this through.

“And Hanks distant” you sighed sagging into the couch.

“Maybe it was a bad idea” you said sadly.

“Y/n” Connor said and you looked to him, he rarely said your name.

“This wasn’t a bad idea, this will take time to get used to and figure our mission out together” you smiled at him.

“Though I don’t understand many things I am willing to learn” he added.

“And try” he said another blue tint to his cheeks.

“May I kiss you detective?” He asked and you smiled as your heart pounded. You nodded and he leant forward, you closed your eyes as he pressed his synthetic lips to yours. It felt like real ones only smoother, you hummed softly leaning up body eager again. He pulled back eyes in a daze as you smiled slightly.

“I have to return to cyber life for some adjustments soon” he said and you frowned.

“Are you ok?” You asked worried.

“I’m ok, they’re going to add features to my body and system” you frowned.

“I’ll be better equipped like a male alpha” you flushed at his words and leant back into the seat avoiding his eyes.

“Oh” you stuttered out.

“When- when is this?” You asked.

“Tomorrow” you nodded embarrassed.

“How long will you be gone?” You asked.

“Only for the night” you nodded again.

“Ok” you said softly.

You frowned as your phone buzzed. You answered and frowned when you heard a familiar voice.

“Jimmy?” You questioned and he sighed confirming. Connor frowned also leaning in.

“Can you come get Hank please” you glanced to Connor at his words.

“Mans messed up again” your heart sank.

“Im on my way” you hung up.

You quickly got dressed sort of and drove to Jimmy’s. Connor followed you as you walked in spotting Hank in the corner slumped over.

“What happened?” You asked Jimmy.

“He got drunk started babbling on about you and Connor before breaking down and passing out” you processed and sighed.

“Thanks” you muttered going to him.

“Hank” you said as you slid into the booth next to him.

“Hank” you dragged out. He gurgled out a sound and you raised an eyebrow.

“Perhaps I should support him to the car” Connor said.

“Yep” you agreed getting out of the seat.

“Hank” Connor said and Hank grumbled. He helped the man up who groaned and grumbled eyes opening and closing. He finally focused on you, your arms were on your hips.

“Why’re you glaring at me?” He said like a child.

“We’re going home” you rolled your eyes handing Jimmy some money as a tip.

“I’m sorry” you said and he shrugged.

As you drove Hank home the man grumbled the whole way there. You unlocked your door before taking him to the bathroom.

“Hank” you said as Connor sat him down on the toilet. The alpha looked around taking in his surroundings before taking you and Connor in.

“Fuck” Hank toppled over and you jumped back a bit.

You looked away as he threw up in the toilet. You held down your stomach and sighed going to get him a drink while Connor watched him.

The toilet flushed and you went back in with a glass of water.

“Thanks” he mumbled sipping it. He leant back against the cold tiles as did you as you sat down staring at him.

“Stop staring” Hank sighed.

“Hank we’re concerned” Connor said.

“Well be unconcerned” he slurred.

“Hank” you sighed sadly.

“What?” He scoffed slightly.

“You’re not my mum” he chuckled at his joke.

“No I’m your partner” you said.

“That’s unfortunate for you” he smirked.

“Hank” Connor said almost in warning.

“Shut up tin can” Hank huffed.

“Look at you both sad faced over me, it’s depressing shit man” he sighed.

“You know you’re probably better off leaving me here and going off with Connor” although he was drunk his words hurt.

“Hank-“ you said startled.

“I mean the fuck you want me for? Disgusting old, alpha, pervert with a pretty omega and perfect robocop over here” you bit back tears.

“I can’t give you a family, can’t give you what you need” you felt a tear roll don your face as he continued.

“I don’t want a family I just want you two” you said taking a deep breath.

“Maybe you’re fucked in the head too” you flinched at his words and clenched your jaw, he was just drunk.

“The fucked amigos!” He cheered and you glared at the floor.

“Hank you’ve upset the detective and me” Connor said.

“Yeah? And?” You stood and quickly left at his words.

You curled up in your bed tears rolling down your face. He didn’t want this, he didn’t want the three of you to be together, your alpha didn’t want you or Connor. You hugged your pillow tightly before a light knock came.

“Detective” it was Connor who called.

You didn’t answer so he let himself in.

“I’ve let the Lieutenant rest on your pull out couch, he’s unconscious I’m afraid” you sniffled and nodded.

“He’s just drunk” he muttered.

“Is he?” You turned to face him. Connor couldn’t answer.

“He doesn’t want me or you! Or us! Maybe I am fucked in the head, we’re all fucked in the head” you cried.

“I’m stupid for ever dreaming” you laid down again, back to Connor as you cried. Your mind was going wild you couldn’t handle the rejection he had just said. You tried to reason but there wasn’t anything to reason with.

The bed shifted but you didn’t move as Connor laid behind you. He slipped his arm under your head and another around your waist. You clutched your pillow tightly and cried softly.

Your tears dried and stuck to your face, your eyes were droopy as you tried to stay awake.

“Sleep” you heard Connor mutter as he pulled the blanket over you both. Your eyes closed and you sighed letting darkness take over.

Next chapter ->

#x reader #Hank x reader x Connor #hankcon #Hank x reader #Connor x reader #abo #DBH #detroit become human #poly

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raven-at-the-writing-desk · 4 years

Text

Skinship

This one is dedicated to my dear friend and fellow TWST writer, @twstpasta!

Congrats on making it to 3k followers and for making the grand debut of your new blog mascot~ I look forward to seeing your future works, as well as all of the (inevitable) Vil brain rot once your EBG (Extreme Bias Game) is over!

Imagine this...

“Unacceptable.”

“Eh?”

“Your skin,” Vil clarified. “It is simply unacceptable. You don’t truly intend on marching to the opening ceremony looking like that, do you?”

“My...skin?” Your hands subconsciously trailed to your cheeks. “What’s wrong with--”

He cut you off, his pupils dilating in absolute horror. “No...!! Don’t touch your face! Your hands are breeding grounds for all manner of nasty bacteria!”

Your hand jolted away at Vil’s remark. He sighed in relief--but the repose is short-lived.

“You haven’t even properly buffed out the sunscreen along your hairline. See to it that you wash your hands and blend it in. Now.”

“Ah, I must have gotten some grated parmesan on me while I was making my mac ‘n cheese for lunch,” you explained, your expression sheepish. “I only put sunscreen on when I work out, Vil-senpai.”

“Excuse me?!” He brought a finger to his chin and frowned. “I don’t know whether I should be more appalled at the fact that you somehow got cheese in your hair or at the fact that you scarcely wear sun protection...What, if I may ask, does your typical skincare routine look like?”

“I splash water on my face once in the morning and once at night. And I already told you about the sunscreen when I exercise.”

“...That is all?”

“Yup.”

Vil cradled his head in his hands.

“...Sit.”

“Huh? Oh, sure.” You seated yourself on a sofa and glanced up at your senpai. “But won’t we be late for the ceremony if we wait around for too long?”

“It will only take a few minutes,” Vil insisted with a dismissive wave. “I will be right back.”

The Pomefiore dorm leader swept out of the room, his dark sleeves billowing out behind him. The intricate golden designs on his robes seem to twinkle and dance under the lights.

He soon reappeared with a tray--upon it, a few towels, several small bowls of water, and an assortment of containers. Vil sat down beside you, placing the tray on a low coffee table.

“We can’t have you going out looking a mess,” he declared, “so I shall be giving you a quick facial.”

“Whoa, really? Thank you so much for this, senpai.”

“Don’t thank me yet. The magic has yet to start.”

He took a pump of soap, working it into a rich lather, then dipped his hands into a bowl of water and patted dry with a towel. Vil dispensed a viscous substance from another bottle and swiped it on your face--from your chin to your forehead, massaging in circles.

“What’s this slick stuff? Moisturizer?”

“It’s an oil-based cleanser,” Vil corrected, “Listen well, potato. There are three essential steps to every skincare routine--the first is cleansing.”

“But I’ve already washed my face today.”

“We need to break down your sunscreen first before we apply more product,” Vil chided, wetting his hands again before running them across your cheeks. “Next is a water-based cleanser.”

He popped open a tube and squeezed out a coin-sized amount. Rubbing his hands together produced fine suds.

“You’re washing my face again?” you asked, giggling while Vil worked the product onto your face. The lather tickled a bit—and it smelled like a field full of raspberries, bright and bursting with sunshine.

“Skin has both fat and water. Therefore, you should wash once with an oil to bind to oils, and water to bind to water—this will give you a thorough cleanse.”

Vil’s words were stern, but his touch remained gentle. Even as he chastised you, you could not help but indulge in the moment, melting in his voice—rich and velvety and decadent.

Hehe...like mac ‘n cheese...

You could feel a trickle of drool forming in the corner of your mouth.

“...45 to 60 seconds washing with each cleanser,” Vil recited in a murmur. “Upward and outward circular motions to promote lymphatic drainage, and to keep the skin from sagging. Be sure to exfoliate at least once a week...Are you listening to a word of what I’m saying, potato?”

“Huh? Uh...yeah, yeah, I’m listening.”

“Hmmm.”

“I-I swear I am!”

“Pop quiz, then. How many steps are there in a basic skincare routine?”

“Three! Four if you count washing twice!”

Vil cracked a small smile. “Excellent. I expected nothing less from you.”

He moistened his hands again and removed the bubbles on your face . Then Vil patted you down with a towel, leaving your skin just a bit damp.

“The next step is moisturizer. Normally, I would have you apply a toner, essence, and serum first, but we do not have the time for that.”

Vil unscrewed the cap on a tall, frosted glass bottle. The contents were pure white, sloshing around like melted snow

“Isn’t moisturizer usually like...lotions and stuff? That doesn’t look like a lotion to me.”

“This is a 2-in-1 toner and moisturizer. Cream skin,” he explained, carefully pressing the product onto cheeks and forehead.

Ah.

His fingers. They were so plush, so soft through the thin slip of the product—like clouds brushing against your face, planting dew drop kisses.

Your eyes drifted shut for a few moments, relishing in the feel of him.

“And, last but not least, sunscreen. You must always wear sun protection, even in winter and on cloudy days. UV rays can wreak havoc on your skin.”

“Y-Yes!”

Vil sighed, squeezing a generous heap of white goop into his palms. “If you understand, then you must promise me that you will take better care of yourself in the future.”

“I promise...”

“Good.”

His hands ran across your face, tracing every contour and curvature until each spot was slathered with sunscreen. Vil was the artist, and you were his canvas to be molded into a work of art.

A sweep here, a dab there, and...

Done.

Vil held your face, cupped within his hands, and gazed upon his work. His lips pulled into mirthful smirk—and his eyes glittered like amethysts embedded with stars.

He was so close--yet you cannot make out even a single pore or imperfection on his milky face. Your heart hammered from his intense gaze, and how his pink lips--today, the color of raspberries--were parted just so. How soft they must be, if he takes such good care of his skin.

“D-Do I look better now?” you asked nervously.

“See for yourself.”

Vil passed over a handheld mirror.

In the glass, a familiar, yet unfamiliar, face stared back at you. Your reflection bore a plump complexation—all rosy cheeks and supple skin. No white cast, no oily sheen, no flaky patches, no rough texture.

It almost doesn’t seem like yourself.

“Well?” Vil inquired, his arms folded.

“It’s me, but like...way better. It’s like you cast a spell or something.”

You cautiously poked your cheek. It conformed, then bounced back.

“No touching!” Vil hissed, yanking your wrist back with a frown.

“Whoops...ehehe, sorry. I forgot.”

“Honestly,” he groaned, reaching out and grasping your other wrist, “if you are going to disregard my advice so blatantly...”

Vil flashed his pearly whites in a sly smile. “ ...then perhaps I should keep a firm grip on these traitorous hands of yours until further notice.”

He lifted the back of your hand to his mouth and planted a kiss. His lips were every bit as tender and smooth as you had imagined them to be.

A single thought emerged from the back of your mind: just what would those lip of his taste like, set upon your own?

You reddened.

“That color is most becoming on you, potato,” Vil chuckled, pulling back. His grip on your hand remained firm, yet somehow also delicate--as though handling a precious gem.

“Come. We cannot afford to dawdle any longer. The ceremony awaits us.”

Hand in hand, you venture out into the world--

--putting you best face forward.

#twst #twisted wonderland #Vil Schoenheit #Vil Schoenheit x Reader #disney twisted wonderland #Reader #self insert #twisted wonderland imagines #twisted wonderland headcanons #twisted wonderland scenarios #imagine this #bulli

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hoodoo12 · 3 years

Text

Elegy (4/6)

These two’ll be the death of me, @clairjohnson . . . Home again, home again, jiggity jig, even if that home is a tomb. Despite drunkenness, something unexpected occurs.

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3

@turtlepated @thewolfisapartofmysoul @beejiesbitch @janitor-boy @angelicspaceprince @beetlewise-and-pennyjuice `

If she hadn’t been so focused on keeping him upright his words would have knocked her down. Maria had heard this man flirt a hundred times over, but nothing ever so flattering and eloquent. The most beautiful. Her stomach twisted at the compliment. Both unbelievably flattered and heartbroken all at once. Had he always thought this? Or had he really just gone overboard with the drinks tonight?

She was about to respond, to express how completely touched she was by his words, when he started to talk again. Beej’s announcement of their arrival, and subsequent stumble, snapped her out of her thoughts. When had they gotten here? She hadn’t even realized they’d gone through a door.

Didn’t matter. The Netherworld was a strange place, Betelgeuse was strange, it was easier just to accept things as they were. What was harder to accept, however, was his home. It was practically barren, save for a bed, table, and wooden chair. The only light in the room came from a few scattered candles that revealed debris strewn across his old wooden floor.

It looked like a crypt. It might be a crypt.

“This is where you stay?” she asked, unable to hide the shock in her voice. Her place was hardly a palace, but it was clean. Bright. She couldn’t imagine ever spending a night here. Let alone however many hundreds of years he’d been dead. The mere concept made her chest tighten in pity.

“Let’s get you over to the bed . . .”

"Gives me incentive to get top side," he muttered half under his breath at her blurted question. "Who cares anyway? I close my eyes and it's gone. I don't see it. No one else does either."

She hadn't taken her arm from around his waist. With her continued assistance, he shuffled over towards his bed. The distance wasn't far, but as if to help bolster the fact his place was more fleabag hotel than the Ritz-Carlton, his foot caught a stack of Handbooks for the Recently Deceased--how did those get there? It couldn't be that he'd stolen them from recently deceased in order to con them--

--and he stumbled. The four walls around them did a looping dance. Automatically his grip over her shoulders tightened even as his other hand went for the rusty iron foot rail on his bed. He managed to remain upright, but had jerked her along with him.

As he recaught his balance, the room settled back into place.

She'd been close while walking with him, but there'd still been a detachment. He'd managed to scatter that with his ham-fisted, foolish misstep; Maria had been pulled right to him.

With a jerky, unnatural movement, he lifted his arm off her.

"Sorry," he apologized.

Top side. She and others, including Juno, had wondered for decades how he’d manage to find ways to the world of the living. There were rules. Passes you needed to apply for - but he, in normal Betelgeuse fashion, skirted by it all.

She was about to snap back at his flippant comment when he tripped over what appeared to be a pile of handbooks. Maria reminded herself to inquire on those later. Thankfully Beej caught himself on the bed, saving them both from falling face first on the wood floor. In his effort to stay balanced the arm around her shoulder moved forward, effectively pulling her into his chest. One arm still wrapped around his waist, the other now flat on his chest, she peered up at him with embarrassment. He wasn’t a particularly tall man, but he was sturdy, and she felt unusually small pressed against him.

When he detached himself with a slurred apology Maria took in a shaky breath she didn’t need then helped him sit down on the bed. God, he looked so disheveled - more so than usual. His eyes were heavy, shoulders slumped, and his tie was loosened and askew around his neck.

Without waiting for permission Maria slipped the loose tie up and over his head and hung it gently on the foot rail. Turning back she hesitated, just for a second, before helping him slip his jacket off. She ran her hands over his shoulders and under the jacket, sliding it down his arms. The beauty queen reached around him, leaning in close, and retrieved the jacket and reunited it with his tie.

“From what I can see of your bed I doubt you take these off when you sleep.” She crouched down and angled his large black boots for him to see. “However, I can’t bring myself to see you place these nasty things on the mattress.”

Some quick finger work on the laces and a few short tugs had both boots off. She placed them neatly at the foot of his bed. Maria brushed some questionable dirt off her hands and returned to the older man, giving him a satisfied once over. Gently, she pressed on his shoulder for him to lay down.

“Get some rest, Alborotador. I’m sure I’ll be seeing you around again soon.”

He felt loose, like his joints had been separated. Maria's gentle guidance around the end of his bed to the side and helping him sit was appreciated, but that was nothing compared to her carefully removing his tie. At some point it'd become loosened, or even in his inebriated state he'd have slapped her hands away. Nobody touched his neck, that was a rule. But she was quick and efficient and the fabric never touched his skin. That would've been enough, but then, but then--

She assisted him out of his jacket. Any other time he'd have made some off-color comment or pushed the flirting so hard it would have bordered on desperate. But muddled by the booze and still feeling the deep ache of rejection from those people in goddamned Connecticut, just to have her be attentive, just to have her hands peel him out of his outerwear--

A small sigh slipped past his lips. If she heard it, she ignored it.

Then she didn't leave well enough alone; she actually crouched in front of him in her cocktail dress and heels--everything about her was in stark contrast to the rat's nest he lived in, and he included himself in that melancholy assessment; he should have never brought her here--and worked the laces of his boots loose and pulled them off his feet.

The care and concern pained him. The simple act of touch took him apart.

When she took his shoulder he almost moaned. Like a man dying of thirst in a desert, he wanted nothing more than to drink in that simple friendly touch.

It took all his will power to not grab her hand. Not for anything inappropriate, but just to keep it there, so he could soak it in. Instead, he sat dumb and dull as she straightened her skirt and bid him farewell.

"Why does everyone keep leaving me?" he whispered. There had been a time very recently he'd bellowed that, but here, all he could expend the effort on was something closer to a whimper.

Maria had started to make her way out of the room when he spoke, the sound of his broken voice pulling at her more than the words themselves. Not that the words didn't catch her attention, and in many ways, hurt her. He was drunk, she reminded herself, and sad. She could stay with him a little longer - just until he was unconscious, she already crossed a line by being here, and basically sprinted past said line when she helped him undress.

"I'm not leaving you," Maria corrected while she walked back over to the bed. "I was just going home. I have no illusions that you won't be darkening my waiting room doorstep again soon."

Gently, she sat down on the bed beside him, her leg brushing up against his own.

"Now lay down. Go on." She pushed at him again, moving out of the way for him to lift his legs up. The beauty queen stayed seated beside him, her torso twisted slightly to look down at him while she spoke.

"If anyone left, it was you, Beej." The words were soft and sad, and she reached out absently to adjust a crease in his white(ish) button up. "Got yourself in so much trouble that Juno had to fire you - and then you were gone. Disappeared like smoke for years, only to show back up in the waiting room looking pissed."

Maria had been so relieved, and so unbelievably angry to see him after all that time. It was that absence, that complete cut from communication, that had brought her back to calling him Mr. Betelgeuse - a title she already found herself skipping again in favor of his nickname.

Maria appeared at his side again, and blearily he looked up at her. Her nudge wasn't rough but he was so unsteady it was almost enough to topple him. He managed to not just fall back like a drunk--haha--but only just barely.

Her words came to him as if through cotton wool. Disorganized thoughts moved lazily inside his head; it was so much easier to be angry than this drunken, dazed state he was in. The fact that the beauty queen had even given him the time of day was almost too much to take and much too much to even try and puzzle out.

In the reaches of his memory he did recall how upset she'd been to see him again, and her cool reception to him ever since the final incident that sent him packing--that he'd designed for at least the chance for freedom. Tonight was the first time in all the times he'd reappear she'd ever done anything more than nod politely and exchange chilly words.

As she sat primly, lightly beside him, the bed frame buckled. It didn't startle him, he was more than used to it, but he could imagine the surprise on her face as the mattress sagged her closer to him. Her delicate attention to his shirt made him catch her hand.

"Come here," he croaked out, before clearing his throat, giving her a half-hearted pull. "I gotta tell you something."

The unexpected dipping of the mattress when he laid back surprised her, and she ended up with her back pressed against his side. Maria might have just fallen on top of him, if he hadn’t grabbed the hand that had been adjusting his shirt.

Deep brown eyes assessed him curiously at the request. He was quite capable of saying whatever it was he needed to say from where she sat now - but the pull of sympathy was still strong. Without a word Maria leaned down to him, her free hand bracing her body on the mattress next to his. Being this close, even closer than when she was helping him walk home, she could pick up the smell of moss and wet dirt that clung to his clothes and skin. There was also the faintest smell of roses - so subtle that she could have second guessed if it was there at all.

She did as requested, and leaned over him. A stray lock of hair escaped from its careful pinning, and tickled his cheek. Maybe if things between them had been different, maybe if he hadn't fucked everything over in that spectacular way that was apparently his specialty, he'd have permission to brush it back. To lift it and settle it behind her ear. A minor but intimate gesture.

But he didn't. He let her hair stay where it was, because it was also nice to feel it on his skin.

Now that he had her there, he was at a loss for words. Lots of things flitted through his head: "You deserve better than me." "I missed you." "Wanna go see Saturn? I know a safe place--"

In the end, he frowned a little as he focused on her features. She was so close everything was blurred; he didn't think it was because of the alcohol. Why in the ever-loving hell did she put up with him?

"Thank you," he whispered.

There was a long silence while his eyes searched her face. Maria could tell he was considering something - and the fact that it was taking him this much time started to worry her. Why? She wasn’t sure.

At this distance she was able to get a good look at his face. It was round and scruffy, and strangely complimented by his Roman nose. Even in his current, sullen state his lips still had an upturned curl to them. She’d always liked his lips.

Her attention was taken away from his face when he spoke, and she smiled at him in response.

“You’re welcome.”

Blame it on the alcohol, on their proximity, on the raw vulnerability he’d shown her - but without having time to process her actions, her face closed the distance with his. The kiss was soft, and her lips barely pressed against his own.

It took only a few seconds for what she had done to register, and when it sunk in, she pulled back. Not all the way, but enough to give him a dazed, almost apologetic look. She hadn’t planned to do that, would have sworn up and down that she would never be kissing Betelgeuse right up until the moment she did. Maria started to sit up a little more and opened her mouth to speak, but had no idea what to say.

The brush of her lips against his was a shock that wasn't dulled by alcohol.

His hand automatically went up to touch her, to slip to her jaw to keep her close, but the split second that it took for him to try she pulled back again. But the motion was in place; although he missed keeping her where she was, his fingers touched the junction of neck and shoulder.

There was nothing more important in his existence than tasting her lipstick again.

Eyes wide, his tongue swiping his bottom lip in a move he didn't give conscious thought to, Beetlejuice breathed out, "Mi hermosa emperatriz Maria . . ."

With a little additional pressure from his hand he encouraged her back towards him as he surged up to her.

tbc . . .

#writing #role-play #BeetleTina #Beetlejuice #miss argentina #Beetlejuice x Miss Argentina #movie beetlejuice #musical beetlejuice #fanfiction #rp

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imamandaonline · 3 years

Text

Part One Of Look At You: Call My Name

(A/N: Rebloggable! I know basically nobody actually wanted this except for my girlfriend but the spam comments pushed me deeper into hole of love. So here! Let me know if you want to be on the tag list for Pt 2. Should I make this a fic? Tag your friends!)

Dex had a weird relationship with school in general. All classes-great. The people in them? Not so great. Like Metaphysics. The concepts for debate were always good, and the lectures fascinating, but the people debating? Absolute human dumpster fires.

That isn’t to say his classmates aren’t good debaters-they were just snobs. Especially when it came to more controversial topics. Like what defines the integrity of a bad match. There were many smirks headed Dex’s direction during the match.

Today though, today he would prove them wrong! It was already ironic he was the second-youngest regent in history, which gave him even more material to rub in their faces. The Foxfire Metaphysics Championship was structured much the same way as the splotching championship.

Starting inside their own levels, prodigies pair up as a prompt is distributed with great fanfare. Telekinesis slowly rolling out the scroll, flashing orbs, the whole shebang. The big difference between the Metaphysics and Splotching Championships was the duration. While the Splotching Championship normally only took up a day, the Metaphysics Championship took up the whole year.

Councillor Noland was coming to oversee the final matches. One for the Elite Levels, and one for the Basic Levels.

The Elite Match was between Wylie Sonden and Kylene Tarros. The Basic Match was between Dex and . . . you guessed it! The one and only Wonderboy, Metaphysics winner three years straight. Gah. There was the infuriating word again.

The real reason Dex was up for the match was an issue with the unicorns at Sterling Gables. Stina was called home for the month to help. Dex had been runner-up, which leads you to the reason he was aggressively jotting down points. Practice had to pay off sometime soon.

Holed up in the Archives, Dex was checking out Metaphysics scrolls, and a piece on the history of caches. Attaching his home crystal to the hanger, he watched as the strategically placed window sent a ray of light to his crystal, producing a pink aura.

Dex carefully slid his first scroll into the glow, imagining the stacking inside the cubby residing at his lab.

“Hi Dex,” an crisply accented voice rang out.

The boy in question jumped, scattering his check-outs. Fitz offered a smooth hand, swiftly leaning down.

Dex scrambled up by himself.

“What are you getting,” Fitz asked pleasantly, trying to make conversation. He rolled on the balls of his feet, boots stretching.

Dex searched desperately for an answer so he wouldn’t seem like a fool.

“Um, Team Valiant stuff.”

Fitz looked down at a partially open scroll, squinting at the words clearly reading Mind Over Matter - Extended Advanced Edition.

“Are you sure?”

Dex fidgeted, gathering up what he’d dropped.

“Yup, definitely.” Fitz shrugged, kneeling down to help. He hands Dex the scroll, noting the title-it was Caches, A History. Not that Dex cared what the Vacker thought about his honesty. He didn’t.

“So,” Fitz draws out, scratching the back of his neck. Dex glanced back at the boy, periwinkle eyes falling on the telepath’s lips. Damn that height difference. Quickly righting himself, the Dizznee toyed with his panic ring.

“Yeah,” Dex responded, pushing his sandy hair away.

“Do you wanna come to Everglen? For Metaphysics practice?” Fitz didn’t seem like he was sure of his words. “Wylie will be there too,” he stated, finding an escape. An escape from what, was the real question.

“Ok?” Dex's answer sounded more like a question, possibly scared.

“Alright.” Fitz’s shoulders sagged from relief for a few short seconds. His posture straightened as his sexuality would not. “Biana is going to be out with Mom all day to shop for the materials for some designs.” Dex knew this. He had helped the girl calculate proportions.

Nodding, the Technopath finished light leaping his nexus-bound scrolls.

Fitz held up his home crystal, chiseled to perfection, just like his jaw. A blush crept up Dex’s neck and ears as he berated himself for thinking such stupid things.

“Oh, you meant now,” Dex whispered. Fitz raised an eyebrow, dangling the crystal like mistletoe. Dex took the outstretched hand this time, surprised to find calluses on rough skin. A tingling feeling, the pins and needles sensation on steroids, spread up Dex’s body.

Or maybe that was just the light leap.

The lack of glaring gates was disturbing, a defining part of Everglen’s architecture gone. It shouldn’t have been there in the first place since it prevented direct light leaping, but Vackers could get away with anything. Or at least they used to.

Upon the discovery of the trollish hive hidden on Everglen grounds, the gates were decreed to be removed. It was a direct order from the council. Dex couldn’t help feeling sorry for the family, despite years harboring a grudge against them. The gate provided safety. Now they were out in the open.

It must have been a rude awakening.

Fitz led Dex around the gnomes, waving and greeting each by name. Zarnan, Dakath, Arwen, and Kidal were the first few, as well as the only ones Dex heard before tuning Fitz out.

Dex trailed along, hand still collapsed in Fitz’s. It was . . . odd, how he didn’t mind the touch.

Marble fountains spouted arcs of water in jeweled shades, scented with vanilla. The huge woven silver doors were wide open, displaying a rounded foyer making Dex feel trapped in a hatbox. Vacker portraits lined a hall branching forward, looking down on Dex imperiously.

Fitz didn’t seem to notice.

As the pair entered the library, which was really a large study, Fitz reluctantly let go of Dex’s hand. Wylie nodded at them, the silence slightly overwhelming.

Dex plopped down in a plush seat, regretting not stopping at Dawnheath before coming with Fitz. The technopath was normally good with his impulse control, though something about the Vacker boy just . . . threw him off.

“Do you wanna fire back and forth, or have our resident expert give us tips,” Dex asked nonchalantly, drumming his fingers on the ornate armrest.

“He can’t give us suggestions if he hasn’t seen us debate,” Fitz stated smoothly.

Wylie flushed with second-hand embarrassment.

“Yeah, um, right.” Fitz’s head tilted. He was probably wondering how Dex was debating against him in the first place. Dex’s hands tightened with a white-knuckled grip.

Fitz’s hand reached out, slender finger brushing the freckles of Dex’s cheeks. His teal eyes searched Dex’s face silently, roving around. Pulling away, Fitz turned over his palm, showing the Dizznee a fleck of glitter.

Oh.

Well, apparently Dex is terrible at reading people. Great.

It’s an odd feeling, how Dex couldn't wait for this day to be over, yet simultaneously had been deeply invested in how it played out.

#fedex #detz #fitz and dex #debate #metaphysics #mind over matter #self deprecation #gay panic

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sweetpea-willybee · 3 years

Text

Four way lovelies (part 1/2)

Fandom: sanders sides

Pairings: LAMP

description: Virgil doesn’t have the best relationship with his family. He never has. But when he meet Roman, Patton, and Logan, thing look like they might turn around. (P.S. everyone is cute, fluff happens)

Warnings: !THIS IS A TICKLE FIC (in part 2)!, bad family relationships (for those who are triggered by that), slight angst but it gets better, FLUFF✨❤️☺️🥺💅🏽😭🏳️‍🌈🤫😚😛☠️

—————

Virgil never really had the best relationship with his family. He loved them, he really did! But...he was always in his room and his family never knew how to help/deal with him when he needed it. They just didn’t understand each other. And that’s fine. He’s fine. He doesn’t need people to live his life.

At least, that's what he thought two years ago.

~ flashback ~

“I can’t deal with you right now Virgil” , that was his mother speaking. Virgil currently sat at a small coffee table at the corner of the college roof. He had been trying to enjoy the pleasant weather and soft breeze when she called. “Look- I love you, really, but ever since your dad left and your sister moved away with her partner I just haven’t had the patience to try to put up with you. You’re never out of your room when you are at home, you always hide when I invite guests over, you never wear anything but hoodies even when it’s in the middle of a heatwave, you just never do anything like a functional human being except keep your room clean! I can’t deal with that right now, ok?!” His mother sighed heavily as if his introverted tendencies actually hurt her. Her ego maybe. “Just- just stay at the dorms this weekend, please. Or, you know what? Stay at the dorms until summer break. During the break I’ll be visiting your sister so you can have the house to yourself, I doubt she’d want you to influence her daughter to be like you.” And with that, his mother, his own mother, hung up on him after acting like he had killed someone.

Powering his phone off, he numbly bent over the table. Tears silently dripped down his cheeks and left streaks in his makeup. He didn’t know if he was sad or if he even cared, but his tears seemed to decide for him. He didn’t even care about what she thought about his behavior, it had always been that way and it always will be. But the part that really gave him a sting, was the part about his sister not wanting him to be around his niece. Angela was only 2 but was being sucked away from him like the rest of his family. Huh, figures. No one wanted to be around the guy who barely spoke and wore spooky makeup, not even his family could see past that.

A bitter sadness washed over him but before he could drown, a strong hand landed on his shoulder. Startled out of his thoughts, Virgil jumped out of his seat and whipped around to face the newcomer who’s hand didn’t let go but migrated to gently cradling his shoulder. When he faced the owner of said hand, he was almost blinded. The person -a medium height man- was decked head to toe in white and gold and bright red. His dress shirt was tight fitting but loose at the elbows and down, with small gold tassels hanging from one wrist. The man’s pants were made similarly but one difference was that a strip of bright red fabric with gold designs was tied at the top and the excess hung to his left hip. He looked like a real life Disney prince. But what made Virgil shrink into himself was not the man's attire and confident build, but his soft sympathetic expression.

“Oh- uh- I’ll leave if you need this table. Sorry about the noise.” Virgil managed to stutter out, looking towards the ground. At that, Virgil heard two more footsteps approached and looked up to find a short man with a light blue t-shirt littered with puppies and kittens and brown slacks, and a tall tense man in a dark blue polo shirt with a silver tie and black work pants that rolled up to reveal light blue and red ankle bracelets. Suddenly Virgil was very aware of his messy appearance in front of these very attractive men.

Violently, Virgil reached up to scrub his smudged eyeshadow away as he turned his back to the beautiful strangers. He scrubbed with one hand and the other fumbled for the discarded phone on the table. Eventually his hand found it but just as he was about to break for it, a hand softly snaked around his bicep and caught his attention.

It was the man in light blue, he realized, who was currently holding onto his arm and tucking Virgil’s head into the crook of his neck. Virgil’s breath caught in his throat but just as he thought to pull away, the man’s other hand found a home in his chocolate hair. Dangit, Virgil thought defeatedly as his body sagged unwillingly into the strangers warm embrace.

“Why- why are you hugging me?” Virgil hushedly questioned, worried he’d scare the other away if he spoke too loudly.

“Because we heard your conversation accidentally, and you looked like you needed a hug.” The man said simply. They stayed there for a few more seconds before the stranger in blue abruptly tore away and gasped loudly. Virgil was about to apologize for whatever he did wrong when he noticed the excited stars in the others' eyes. “We never introduced ourselves! Silly me! Anyways, my name is Patton Costly, that’s Logan Croft-” the man in dark blue nodded “and that’s Roman Pascal!” The first stranger in blinding colors beamed and waved. “What’s yours?”

Blinking at the question, Virgil dumbly let out, “huh?”

The other man - Patton- just giggled and exclaimed “your name, silly! What’s your name!”

Virgil felt his face heat up and choked out “Virgil Rayne, sorry for the distraction. You probably didn’t plan to be cheering a random stranger up for your Sunday afternoon.” He finished with a mumble.

“Nonsense! I’m always up to meet new people, plus, Roman had heard you did the scenery art for his theatre club and wanted to thank you!” Patton dismissed cheerily, his warm persona never dropping like Virgil kept expecting it to.

“Of course! I always wondered what fine artist allowed us all to be blessed with their masterpieces!” The golden man -Roman- gushed. The man in the tie still hasn’t said anything, but this was the moment he decided to interject.

“Indeed. If I may ask, what was your inspiration? The second to last piece you did seemed very similar to Claude Monet’s pieces. I’ve never met anyone who outwardly expressed an interest in him, most only mentioning their favorites and leaving it at that. I find your version of his style quite interesting, I'd like to ask about it some other time if you’d let me?”

Blinking at the tense man, Virgil barely registered what he said. It seemed he was just as nervous as Virgil felt.

“U-um, sure” Virgil hesitantly agreed.

“And, kiddo, you don’t have to talk about that phone call at all, but would you like some company? It’s never fun to be completely alone once someone close hurts you like that. We all know that by now.” Patton added softly. Virgil’s eyes widened and he turned to look at the other two, though they didn’t seem to have any objections. One nodding more enthusiastically than the other. Turning back to Patton, he searched the man's face for a lie. A trick. But al, Virgil found was honesty and soft hope. Which was different.

The only times Virgil had seen someone hope he would be around, they were more demanding than asking. But here he was, being asked whether or not he wanted to spend time with someone. Not demanded, and not ordered. Asked. He could say no if he really wanted to and they wouldn’t stop him. But…

Virgil found himself being drawn to these people. They were all so different from each other but seemed really close. Like, a family. Virgil wanted to be like that too. So he shyly ducked his head and quietly agreed.

~ end of flashback ~

That day had led to many more days of just hanging out and supporting each other. A couple days in Virgil had found out that they were all dating each other and that had stung a little. He didn’t know why, but it did. It wasn’t until he was pulled into one of their impromptu cuddle sessions did he realize, the realization coming in a life crisis and gay panic. Though, as long as they were happy, he was happy.

Years passed like that, and they became closer every passing day. At some point they all agreed to move in together, the being all the family they needed. The apartment was small but was more than enough for each of them, and they soon fell into a rhythm. Eventually, the best day in Virgil’s life came along. That day is today.

“Virgil~!!” A voice rang through the apartment. Roman’s, judging by the dramatic flourish ending his name. Virgil, who was laying on his bed, groaned knowing they would get complaints about it from their neighbors later. He resigned himself to his fate though, and pushed out of his room.

“Virgil, come here kiddo!” Ah, there was Patton. Ok, Virgil decided it was safe since Patton was there, Roman couldn’t get away with his shenanigans with patton.

“Virgil, we require your company please!” Logan? Ok, now Virgil was curious. It had to be something important if they got Logan in on it. He sped up his walk a little, getting worried. However, right as he was about to step through the doorway to the living room, there was a pop and suddenly pastel purple confetti rained down on him. A hand shot out from behind him and wrapped a cloth around his eyes, effectively cutting him off.

“Wha-” he began to exclaim before he felt strong arms sweep him off his feet and start carrying him in another direction.

“Relax stormcloud, it’s just us!” Roman’s voice said, obviously amused.

“Yeah. Okay. But why is this happening? I seem to have forgotten the “get kidnapped by the others” bit in my schedule” Virgil deadpanned, the curious tilt in his voice ruining all attempts to sound disinterested.

“It’s a surprise, blackberry!” Sounded Patton’s voice somewhere off to the side. Virgil blushed from the fond nickname but didn’t question them anymore. They walked for a little longer before he got settled onto what seemed to be the couch.

“Okay, on the count of three you can take off the blind fold!” Patton squealed excitedly.

“One” Logan counted from somewhere in front of him.

“Two~!” Roman sang from around Logan’s left.

“Three!!” Patton rushed out a few seconds early, seemingly too impatient to wait any longer. He was coming from Logan’s right.

Virgil pulled at the knot behind his head and immediately gasped at what he saw.

In front of him, Roman was on one knee with Logan and Patton mimicking him on either side. They all held a rose (Logan’s was black, Patton’s was light purple, and romans was white) up to him in an offering. Each of them wore beautiful suits (Logan’s was navy with a black tie and silver hemming, Patton’s was white with a light blue tie, and Roman’s was red with a golden tie) that fit their shapes perfectly and complemented their features. They all looked a little goofy though, considering they never wore suits (except for Logan) so Virgil couldn’t help but bite his lip so as to not laugh. Even before they spoke, Virgil started blushing and tearing up.

“Virgil, we’ve been dating for four years now. Throughout that entire time it felt like something or someone was missing. When we met you it felt like we were finally whole. At first we decided not to tell you because we didn’t know how you would feel.” Roman began, pouring his heart and soul into every word.

“We thought you might push us away, and we would go back to being half of a whole. We didn’t want to risk losing you, our lovely Virgil. Though, we recently decided that if anything was going to push you away from us, keeping this secret was going to be it.” Patton continued, a soft smile playing at his lips.

“So here we are. We know we probably haven’t done much to earn your romantic feelings, but we wanted to try. It’s perfectly ok if you say no though, we wouldn’t want to force you into something you didn’t want. But, just know that we...we love you Virgil. We are so lucky we met, so lucky we get to call you our friend. So, will you do us the honor of letting us call you our boyfrie-“ Logan never got to finish his sentence, because a moment later Virgil launched himself off of the couch and hooked his arms around all three of them, pulling them into a hug. The hug was a bit awkward and not very cushiony, but none of them would have it any differently.

Both Virgil and Roman burst into loud sobbing while Patton laughed hard and Logan wore a dazed, relieved and proud grin. They stayed there for what felt like hours, just hugging each other and never letting go. Though at some point they decided to take themselves to the couch, instead of staying laid out on the floor.

“You never answered though.” Roman murmured once they all settled into a pile on the couch. Virgil was laying on his chest with Logan seated behind him, petting Roman’s hair where it got messed up during Virgil’s attack. Patton was sitting in between Logan’s legs, letting Roman lay his head on his lap.

“Seriously? I’d think pouncing on you guys and staining your shirts with happy tears would be enough of an answer for you.” Virgil mumbled back, a teasing lilt to his voice. “Sorry about that by the way.” he added sheepishly.

“Not to worry, Virgil. The stains won’t last. Though, Roman has a point.” Logan reassured him.

Virgil didn’t know how to deny the others so aphe blushed furiously, pouted, and said “Logan, Patton, and Roman, I love you with all of my heart and would love to be your boyfriend.”

When he opened his eyes again, all of the others were staring at him wide eyed and slack jawed. Blushing darker, Virgil glanced to the side and asked “what?”

“Just never thought I could love you even more than I already do. Turns out I was very wrong.” Roman replied without missing a beat, still staring Starry-eyed. The smooth show off.

“I take it back, I love you a little less now.”

“You wound me, panic at the everywhere!”

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snaileer · 4 years

Text

Chips & Salsa Chp 5

Lance stared blankly at his team, each caught up in their own worlds. Pidge and Hunk discussing some new gadget. Allura and Coran discussing the castle. Shiro and Keith talking about... training probably. They were all together in the common room, but nobody was talking to anybody else.

He felt fuzzy. Like he was empty, not bad empty. Just.. silence. The world felt muted. It felt like he was watching himself sit there. It was like he was another person, no emotions tethering him. It felt dangerously peaceful, something heavy sat in his stomach telling him it was wrong.

They hadn’t done anything after yesterday, and he hadn’t slept last night, or since he’d been back. The sleep deprivation must be getting to him more than he thought it was.

Lance still watched himself sit there, looking at nothing, seeing nothing. Nothing but haunting, eerie, calm that-

Lance winced harshly and grabbed his ears as he leaned over in pain. The others stopped and glanced over in worry.

“I’m fine, ignore it.” The words felt heavy to get out, like pulling his mind from a fog, though the ringing in his ears had already yanked him away.

The team hesitantly turned back to their conversations. And he pretended not to notice their inability to subtly glance at him.

‘Ignore it.’ What wonderful, fantastic, completely useless advice.

The ringing was barely even the problem, he could deal with this. It was the nothing that was bothering him. Doing nothing, talking about nothing, he was bored.

His leg started bouncing.

He spread his arms out behind him and tapped his fingers on top of the couch backrest.

He looked around at the room, to his teammates. He glanced back and forth between each small group.

Screw this. Lance stood and left the room without a word, easily brushing off the questions that followed him out. He wasn't ‘leaving-leaving’ so they shouldn't get too worried about it. And it’s not like he was participating in any particularly riveting discussions with them.

It’s not like they were even having a moderately boring conversation with him.

It’s not like they were talking to him instead of about him. Or including him in anything.

It’s not like it was any different from when he left in the first place.

Lance ran his hand through his hair, feeling the small scab on his temple from his first moments back in the castle. He sighed,

To the training room it is then. Lance rolled his eyes,

Hooray.

x--x--x

Lance sagged against his bayard, using the barrel of the gun as a staff. He was exhausted, his breath was ragged and his muscles burned from overexertion.

Lance flinched harshly when the doors swished open. He blinked the blurriness out of his vision, and there stood Keith in all his mulleted glory.

“Keith?”

“Oh, hey, Lance, I didn’t know you were in here.” Keith stood there stiffly, his words tight. The tension from yesterday had not disappeared completely yet.

“It’s fine, I just finished.”

“Really?”

“Yes, don't worry Samurai, I won't tell Shiro you’re in here. Train to your heart’s content. Or ‘til you drop. Whichever comes first.”

“Ha ha,” Keith said sarcastically, “I’m better at regulating my training now.” Lance gave him a doubtful eyebrow. “Most of the time,.” Another skeptical look, “Alright, some of the time, but I’ve got it under control.” His voice got defensive.

“Okaay, whatever you say, Keith,” Lance spoke over his shoulder as he started towards the doors.

“Oh! Wait! I was supposed to tell you, we have a team meeting in an hour.”

Right. That.

“No problem. See ya’ there.” An hour was just enough time for a shower and a short face cleanse, finally.

The shower immediately made him feel better. Lance stood under the showerhead for longer than necessary, feeling the water flow over his face and his skin. He missed the water. Missed being clean. He’d hated the dirt and grime of the cells, the terror of every second-

No, don’t think about that. Anything else.

He shut off the faucet with a bit more force than necessary. Stepping out of the steam, Lance stumbled and braced a hand on the wall as a headache bloomed. He really needed to sleep, he could feel the dropoff point of exhaustion creeping up on him. Lance shook it off and wrapped himself in a towel, pointedly avoiding the mirror as he left the room.

He was relieved to find all of his facial supplies were still usable. The space-avocado face wash was a blessing he had longed for in captivity. There were a lot of things he had wished for in-

Nope. Nope. Nope nope nope. Other things. Puppies. And rainbows. Properly cut mullets.

Lance quickly moved his thoughts away, forcibly humming ‘These Are A Few of My Favorite Things’ under his breath as he washed the avocado cream off. He glanced up at the mirror in habit. His eyes caught his own reflection.

His wet hair was still stuck in weird spikes and plastered to his forehead. Before, he might have fussed about it drying like that. Now: he was still annoyed by the mangled haircut, but his eyes focused on the scars.

Lance had managed to protect his face relatively well. There was still a few marks he hadn't managed to avoid.

The scab on his right temple. From Keith’s knife when he got out of the pod. To remind him he was here.

The grooved slash at his hairline. From being thrown across the room by Zarkon. To remind him of his place.

The small nicked mark on his neck. From his first fight. To remind him to survive.

The short rough scar at the bridge of his nose.

From the muzzle.

To remind him of obedience.

Lance’s eyes lingered on that one. He remembered it well, though it was the least noticeable. It was barely there, visible if you looked but easier to feel. Lance ran his finger across it. It was short, probably less than an inch long in total. But it was the implications that gave it weight.

Because it looked exactly like Shiro’s.

Lance finally pulled himself away from the mirror, deciding it was best to ignore his other scars. He got dressed again, just in time to be... very late to the team meeting.

Crap.

Lance was still pulling on his jacket as he ran down the hall. He came to a rolling stop in front of the bridge doorway.

“-still has no punctuality.” He heard Keith’s voice first when the doors opened automatically.

“Sorry I’m late. I did remember it though,” Lance announced as he entered.

“It’s fine, Lance. Keith complains but he was only ten minutes earlier than you.” Shiro said from behind Pidge’s chair.

“Thanks, Shiro.” Lance gave him a grateful smile, Shiro nodding in response.

“Don't tell him that!” Keith burst out at the same time.

“What? It’s true.” Shiro smiled cheekily at his brother.

“Yeah, I know that but-”

“I’ve got it!” Pidge’s exclamation called everybody’s attention to her. Her paladin chair was surrounded by gears and random metal pieces with various pop-up holograms. Hunk among them as well.

The momentary pause as they moved to Pidge made Lance realize he still had the headache from getting out of the shower. The bags under his eyes felt heavier, he would need to rest at some point soon.

“So, yesterday, after, ahem,” Pidge cleared her throat awkwardly, glancing at Lance, “breakfast. I started going over the old missions, including that mission.”

“And why were you looking at that mission?” Shiro’s space-dad came out to scold her.

“Because I was hit by a wave of guilt and decided to indulge my self-destructive tendencies. Why else?”

“Pidge, we’ve talked about-”

“Anyways. I was also looking at the rescue mission and the EMP device we used. And I realized that if I could miniaturize and focus the pulse onto the chip, I might be able to shut it down-.”

“So do it. Let’s get this show on the road.” Lance stepped closer, eager to get this over with. Allura moved to give him space.

“Let me finish, Lance. I could shut it down temporarily. And even then, it’s risky. A high-level electromagnetic pulse aimed directly at your brain? There’s too many possible consequences and too many variables.”

“So why tell us about this at all?” Keith snapped.

“Because it’s still useful.” She barked back, before taking a deep breath, “It could be useful in times we need him asleep. Like in the pod, or when we can get rid of the chip.” She glared at Keith sharply, “I did make something else though. A way to stop the tracker within the chip.”

“Then you can stay, Lance,” Hunk looked at his friend hopefully, “We can be legs again!”

“Can’t wait, bud,” Lance could wait for it, he wanted to. Yes, he loved being a part of Voltron, but he didn’t even know if Blue would still accept him. He was afraid to find out.

“So I was working the design to be small and compact, Hunk helped me with that, and we made it into a bracelet.” Pidge pulled a small box out from among her things, handing it to Lance.

Inside the box was a grayish bracelet, it was about 2 inches long, went all the way around and-

“How am I going to get this on my wrist? There’s no gap.” Lance looked from the box back up to Pidge.

“Ooh! That’s the coolest part!” Pidge jumped up from her seat to grap the bracelet from him.

“A bracelet that blocks radio-waves across the galaxy from a magic chip in my head, and that’s the coolest part?” Lance looked at her doubtfully.

“Of course. Watch this,” She tapped an almost invisible button on the bracelet and a piece slid away. She used the newly appeared gap to put it on Lance’s wrist. Then, another tap of the bracelet and it slid closed again. A red light blinked on.

“My, that is pretty cool, number five.” Lance held his arm up for Coran as he leaned in to look.

The weight on his arm felt familiar. And, bonus points for perfectly covering his weird tan lines.

“Any chance we can make it blue?” Pidge glared at him like he’d destroyed her honor, Lance put his hands up, “Yeesh, fine, no blue.” He turned it wrist back and forth, the bracelet really did fit perfectly. “I really like it, Pidge. Thank you.” He gave her a small smile, “And you’re sure it’ll work?”

“Yes, I perfectly calculated it to the chip’s signal, which was crazy hard to say the least. I’ve never seen a signal like that before. It functions like a cell phone call, but both receiving and sending were the same signal. It really shows the advances of alien technology and the push that space travel must have had to be able to communicate over the distance of galaxies. It’s incredible, really!” Pidge smiled in amazement at the technology.

“I’m definitely not as excited as you about this chip. I’m probably gonna melt it to bits the second I get the chance.”

“But what about the tech?! I have to study it!” Pidge pleaded.

“But what about the- no,” He mocked her then dropped his voice at the end, “Fire. Lots of fire. Maybe even a blowtorch. I don’t know. I’ll get creative, have a bit of fun with it.” He gave her a tense smile.

“But the possibilities of-”

“So, bracelet… it works?”

“Yeah, it works,” she grumbled, “All I have to do is turn it on.” Pidge reached over and clicked something on the bracelet. The red light turned green.

“How does it have power? Will it ever run out of charge?” Keith asked as he stepped up to the group.

“Nope, tiny balmeran crystal, right at the heart of it,” Hunk said proudly, “Courtesy of Shay from our last visit.”

“Whoa, when did Shay start giving you gifts? I so don't remember that from last time.” Lance piped in, elbowing Hunk with a smirk. Everyone’s face dropped. “What? What’d I say?”

“Nothing. Just... while you were gone, we had to make a trip to the Balmera. Had to save the whole planet actually. It wasn't easy, especially-.” Hunk looked down, “Especially without the Blue lion.”

“What? What happened? When did-?” Lance stood straighter. The team looked at each other, wondering if they should tell him, “Guys, I’ll be fine. Just tell me what happened. I need to know.”

“It was still pretty soon after you got.. y’know…” Hunk started wringing his hands together, “And uh, we were looking for you when we got a distress call from Shay’s Balmera.” He looked back at Lance, “We almost didn’t go.”

“But you did go, right?” Lance looked at the others, they avoided his gaze, “You did your job, right?” His tone was harsh, “You saved people, like Voltron is supposed to, right? You didn’t sacrifice a planet just to look for me, right?”

“We did go, Lance-,” Shiro tried to reason.

“But by the time we got there… the beast had already destroyed so much.” Keith still felt guilty about it, mostly because he had voted against going at all. He still didn’t know if that was the right choice. Or if he regretted it.

“The beast? What Beast?”

“The robeast we fought before; the one that got encased in crystal by the Balmera,” Keith explained, “It broke free and used the crystals as power sources.”

“And flying shields, which has got to be one of the most infuriating things Voltron’s ever fought,” Pidge chimed in from her chair.

“Wait, Voltron? You guys were able to form Votlron without me?” Lance had heard rumors of a full voltron in the cells, but he’d hoped they were false. That he wasn't as easily replaceable as that. That he did contribute to the team, but if Voltron could form without him-.

“Barely,” Keith scoffed, “Blue was more temperamental than Red about Allura flying her. Even when we did form Voltron, we were hardly at full power. And we fell apart seconds after defeating it.”

“It’s true. Though the Blue Lion is the most friendly, I fear we are not as great a match as I had previously believed.” Allura looked saddened by the prospect.

“So the rumors I heard? About Voltron resurfacing?”

“Only a few times,” Pidge climbed out of her chair to sit on the armrest, “It was so draining that none of us could sustain it for long without serious damage.”

“I wish I had been there. We could have stopped it. Voltron wouldn’t have been late.” Lance could only feel useless at the idea of Shay hurting because he couldn't be there when he was supposed to be.

“It’s alright. There’s nothing we can do about it now.” Shiro was the first to get back up, “We have you back and that’s all that matters, right?”

“No, Shiro! That’s not all that matters! An entire planet was hurt because I couldn’t be there. Because I-” Lance’s voice cracked, “I couldn’t-”

“Exactly, you couldn’t. You would have been there if you could. You would have tried to help any way you could. You always do.” Shiro stepped towards Lance, but he stepped away. He glanced around at the others looking at him with worry.

“Yeah, sorry guys, but uh- I think I’m just gonna hit the hay,” His words shook with the devastation in his eyes, “I’m pretty tired and-” Lance cleared his throat to try and steady his voice, “Thanks for telling me though, I’ll see you at breakfast.” He backed out of the room with a weak wave, dutifully ignoring the lump in his throat.

Lance quickly turned towards his room. He hoped the team would be too awkward to follow him. Lance scrubbed at his eyes, trying to wipe away the tears before they could fall.

Later. Cry later.

“Dang it, Lance,” He mumbled under his breath, “You don’t have time for this now.” He sniffed and tried to take a deep breath, “Yeah, it’s no big deal. Just an entire planet you abandoned.” He stepped into his room, letting the doors swish close behind him.

“Gah! I knew it!” He swung his fist at the wall. The mental dented, but didn’t crush like drywall. “I knew something would happen! God, I’m so stupid! Thinking everything would be okay for just three months!” He paced around the room, throwing his hands in frustration. “But nooo, the world needs Voltron!” Lance dropped onto his mattress with a sigh, “And you don’t even have the guts to tell your own team that you can't-!” His voice lowered, “that you can't even connect to the Blue Lion anymore. That you haven’t heard her since…,”

Since the druids.

“You really screwed it up this time, Lance.” He put his arm over his eyes as he laid on the bed. It felt squishier than he remembered. He’d nearly thrown a fit at how uncomfortable Altean beds were, but still, it felt too soft. Like he was laying on marshmallows, the stuffing swallowing him up.

“And now,” He sighed again and sat up, “You’re so worked up you can’t sleep. Great job on that one.” He was tired from days without sleep, but his brain wouldn’t let him relax, not yet.

Lance considered his options as his eyes flashed around the room. No one would notice if he didn't go to bed right away. They were probably still on the Bridge with Team Punk.

He poked his head out of his door. The hallway was empty.

Good.

Lance dropped his jacket next to the pillow he’d knocked to the floor and then closed the doors. A short run, a couple laps maybe. Just to tire him out. Get rid of the small ringing in his ears and then he could sleep.

Finally.

He jogged off towards the abandoned sections of the ship. Not even Coran had bothered to clean up the whole castle.

The deserted corridors worked well for running laps, and he picked up speed with each round.

You can make it to 25 laps.

50’s not that far from 25, you can do that much.

That’s only half of a hundred, you can do three quarters, go 75.

He kept reasoning away more laps. First in groups of 25, then in tens, fives; just one more.

One more.

Keep going.

Always keep going!

Go!

He paused against the wall, leaning on it for support. His breath harsh and rough in the silence.

His limbs felt like jelly, his mind focused itself on making it back to his room.

His vision zoomed in and out of focus as he walked. He might have, just maybe pushed himself a bit too far. Again.

When he made it to his room, the doors had barely shut before he collapsed to the floor. He curled up against the wall, pulling his jacket over him and bunching up the pillow as the lights dimmed automatically.

His mind was quiet with exhaustion as he fell asleep to the hum of the castle’s machinery.

The hum morphed into a buzz, growing louder and more familiar until it sounded more like,...

Cheering?

Lance looked around, seeing Pidge and Shiro on the floor behind him. They were in a Galra control room. He’d been here before. He knew this room. It was the mission when he’d been-

“It’s the Arena.”

Lance turned to Shiro’s voice. They were looking at a screen. It was footage. A recording of the Arena, his mind told him.

He moved closer, trying to make out the figures fighting.

It was him.

He was there, on the screen. They could see him fighting. No no no no no.

No! I don’t want them to see me! I don’t want them to see this! I don't want to see this.

He looked back up, he was in the Arena now. He wasn’t just watching it. His team could see him, they would hate him.

But then he noticed his opponent.

“Lance! What are you doing!?” Hunk screamed at him. His body moved on its own.

He couldn’t stop it.

“Hunk! Hunk, you have to move! Run! Please!” Hunk dodged, stepping behind him. Lance’s body kept moving, kept attacking his best friend-

No, wait.

It was Pidge. Pidge was behind him when he turned around. And she was crying. No, she was screaming. He couldn’t tell, could barely hear her past his own apologies.

She begged him to stop, but he didn't.

“Why can’t I control myself!? What’s wrong with me?!”

“Nothing’s wrong with you now, Paladin. I fixed you, remember?” Haggar’s voice reached through his mind. He could see her in front of him, standing there. They were in a dark room, she was hurting him. Torturing him-

He swung at her, but his fist hit Coran. He hurt Coran. Coran was trying to help him. He was with the team, not Haggar.

How did he forget that?

“No, no no no, I’m so sorry Coran, I thought you were-” Lance reached for him, but he flinched away from him in fear.

“I thought of you like a son, my boy.”

“Wait, Coran, I didn’t mean-”

“What have you done!?” He turned around to see Allura running at him. Her energy whip in hand. “Why would I ever like you!? You’re not worthy of being a paladin!” She attacked him, his skin burned where her whip hit. He screamed, but now he couldn’t move. He was stuck there, chained, frozen to his spot.

Allura brought down her whip again, and then it was Shiro. It was Shiro’s prosthetic, they were training together. He blocked Shiro’s hit. They were fighting on the castle. But no, no.

Lance was lying to him.

“How could you do that to me, Lance? How could-”

“I didn’t think-!”

“Exactly! You never think! You don't do anything! Voltron doesn’t need you!” Shiro was walking away from him. Leaving him behind.

“Wait, Shiro! I-” He reached for his shoulder, Keith turned around.

“Lance, why are you doing this!?” Keith fell back against the sand of the Arena, his face bloody. Lance did that. He can’t control himself. “Lance! Please stop!”

“You’ll always come back, Paladin.” Lance could hear Haggar, but he couldn’t see her this time, “It always comes back here.”

“Lance!” Keith screamed again.

“I can’t- I can’t control- I don’t know-I’m sorry, I’m sorry” His mind screamed against his body, but he kept attacking. “I don't know how to stop this! I’m sorry! I’m sorry! I’m so-”

“Lance, get up!” Suddenly, Keith had the upper hand. He was losing. No no no.

I can’t lose! I can’t lose in the Arena! If I lose-

“Lance!” Keith was on top of him, he was going to die. He had to fight, he couldn't lose; not now, “You’ve got to wake up!” Lance flipped Keith off of him, expecting the spray of sand as Keith hit the ground.

But the light of the Arena disappeared, it was dark. There was no sand. No blood. No jeering crowd.

Keith was still below him.

He looked terrified.

Lance scrambled away, his back hitting the wall. The cells, he was back in the cells. Why was he- How was-

Lights flicked on, illuminating the room.

His room. On the castle.

Not the cells.

He wasn’t there, he was rescued, safe back on the castle. Which meant-

“Keith,” Lance paused, “I’m so sorry.” He dared a glance at Keith. A bit of tension eased from his shoulders at Keith’s face. Clean, not bloody. He was worried and scared, sure, but at least he wasn’t hurt. Not that Lance could tell at least, “Are you okay?”

Keith finally sat all the way up from the floor, “I should be asking you that, Lance.” He reached a hand towards him, Lance pushed himself farther against the wall.

“Did I hurt you?” Keith’s face saddened but he recovered quickly, covering up the pity as he pulled his hand back.

“Don’t worry about it, I’ve had the wind knocked out of me before. This one’s on me, I shouldn’t have grabbed your arm like that when you were having a nightmare.”

Oh. It was a nightmare. Bits and pieces flashed through his mind. He cringed internally, a bad one too.

“Why were you sleeping on the floor by the way?” Keith motioned to the wrinkled pillow and his jacket laying on the floor.

He glanced at his mattress, “The bed’s uncomfortable.” He looked to Keith, “Why’d you wake me up?”

“What?”

“Why are you in here?” Lance stood up and brushed off his pants, “Why’d you wake me up?”

“Because you were having a nightmare???” Keith twisted a bit as Lance walked past him to get to his jacket.

“God! What is with you people barging into my room because you think I’m having nightmares?”

Keith jumped up angrily, “The hell does that mean!? What; you want us to just let you suffer like that?!”

“YES!” Lance whipped around to face Keith.

“And why would we do that?! You were obviously in a lot of pain, you were screaming!”

“Maybe! But at least I was asleep!” Lance yelled at him, “This is first I’ve slept since I’ve been back, so who cares if I have a nightmare!”

“We care, Lance!”

“But I don't! Feel my heart right now,” Lance yanked Keith’s hand and pressed it against his chest, “My heart is still pounding, and it’s enough to silence the ringing. I literally have to work myself to exhaustion just to sleep at all!”

“We just want to help you!”

“Well you’re not! I had to figure how to deal with this on my own! And I did. I know what works for me and what doesn't!” Lance jammed his finger at Keith, “And you don't.”

“Because you don’t tell us anything, Lance!” Keith shouted, “I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but you’re not exactly including us right now! You leave without saying anything! You brush off our questions and you train for hours on end!”

“Oh, and since when did you become Mr. Team Player all of a sudden! Huh? High and Mighty Lone Wolf Keith! You wouldn’t know teamwork if it slapped you upside the head! And you don't know me, you don't know my reasons for doing things. I don't have to explain myself to you, Kogane.”

“No, you don't, but it would be nice if you at least tried!”

“If you’re gonna force me to change, just take me prisoner and make it official.” Lance’s tone dropped dangerously.

“That wasn't what I-”

Lance shoved past him with his shoulder, “Next time, just don't wake me up.” He stepped out into the hallway, leaving Keith behind as the door closed between them.

Next: https://snaileer.tumblr.com/post/619677648676929536/chips-salsa-chp-6

First: https://snaileer.tumblr.com/post/613092735756402688/chips-and-salsa-chp-1

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scribbles97 · 4 years

Text

Left Behind -- Chapter 26

In which Scott takes control

PART 1 / PART 2

Chapter 22 / Chapter 23 / Chapter 24 / Chapter 25

Grandma had told them all to go back to the hotel and sleep. Scott had refused and instead insisted on staying with Mom for at least a few hours before he went anywhere. The others had at least had a chance to see her earlier, to say hey and tell her to get better soon. He didn’t doubt they would have time the following day to sit with her too.

He had hoped that he would at least have the evening to himself.

Part of him didn’t want to turn and look when the door opened at his back. So he didn’t. Instead he chose to keep his eyes fixed on Mom’s long slender fingers in his hand as he smoothed his thumb over the dry skin of her knuckles.

“Scott,” Tia cleared her throat, “It’s Hugh and Kyrano. Shall I let them in?”

He liked Tia. She was the only security he knew that actually did as he asked sometimes. If he wanted the room to himself for the night, she would see to it that that were the case. If he told her, she would kick the two older men out of the hospital until the following day.

Her voice dropped, shifting to a tone not meant to be heard, “It looked like it involved the hand over.”

Sighing, he squeezed his mother's hand, “I feared as much.”

“I don’t ha--” Tia started to offer, cutting short when Scott stood with a shake of his head.

“Let them in.”

Neither man looked entirely happy as they entered the room, each with a briefcase in hand, each representing two sides of the same coin.

“Here?” He asked, glancing around the quiet room and towards the sofa and two armchairs in the far corner.

“Here.” Kyrano nodded as he gestured towards the seats, “The room has already been swept for any devices and any built in security taken offline. It’s the most private place in the hospital right now.”

Stepping around the foot of the bed, he glanced to his mother, “You’re sure it’s necessary?”

“Both International Rescue and Tracy Industries require someone to sign off on things daily Scott, we’d only be delaying the inevitable if we didn’t get on with it.” Hugh nodded as he took a seat, “Which do you want to start with?”

He shook his head again as he sunk down in one of the armchairs, “Why me? I mean, there’s Uncle Lee and Aunt Val, you two, Kayo, Penny… why do I have to be the one that’s…”

He trailed off with a sigh, not even sure what it was they were handing over to him. Mom had mentioned it once or twice, asked him if he wanted it to fall to him in such a case. Before he had never minded, the extra responsibility had been something he had looked forward to. The thought of being the one in control, having everyone look to him had been exciting, had made his stomach and heart swell in pride.

Now, it just seemed daunting.

“You agreed to it.” Kyrano stated, “Evangeline and Lee had no wish to be involved with the business side of things, and equally agreed they did not wish to become responsible for their nephews in the field.”

He knew the fact really, both his aunt and uncle had always reminded him that out there they were equals. There wasn’t a time he could remember aunt Val exerting authority over him, sure there had been a time or two with uncle Lee, but he had only been looking out for him.

It kind of made sense they didn’t want to be responsible for sending them out there though.

He wasn’t sure he ever wanted to send his brothers out into danger.

“So,” He nodded to Hugh, “What do I need to know about the business?”

The man smiled, his eye going to the case on the table and opening it up, “If you are happy to, son, I will keep doing what I’ve been doing, and you’ll only have to sign off on new projects, purchases over half a million, and anything the board require of you.”

That much he could manage. For all he had once questioned Hugh’s reasoning for becoming so involved in Tracy Industries, he had to admit he had reached a point where he was damn grateful for it.

He wasn’t entirely sure where he would start with it otherwise.

Glancing over the digital documents that got pushed in his direction, his thoughts stumbled.

What would he have done if it weren’t for the two men in front of him?

Thirty years old and he had no idea how the business worked or what Mom did behind the scenes of IR. All he did do was save lives and keep up maintenance on the ships.

When had he let himself become the billionaire layabout the papers liked to portray him as?

“Can I add a clause?” He asked looking up, “Or, something? Is a clause the right word?”

Hugh straightened, frowning as he looked from the document to Scott and back again, “It would have to be approved by the board.”

Right, about that much he knew. Anything big, anything important, anything that altered the structure of the company had to go through the board first.

Would the board like someone that had very little idea coming into power over them?

“I need to learn a lot.” He admitted softly, “Hugh, I hardly have any idea how any of this works and that’s not… I should know this stuff. I can hardly run a business when I have no idea what I’m doing with it, I need to learn, and fast.”

Hugh smiled, shaking his head as he leant back in the sofa, “No clause needed for learning, son, tell me when you want to start, and I’ll teach you everything there is to know.”

Something in his chest eased, allowing his shoulders to sag slightly as he nodded. Mom trusted Hugh with everything, he knew he could do the same.

Even if he didn’t particularly like the circumstances that had forced him into it.

“Tomorrow,” He started, “Early. I guess getting to know my way around the offices a bit better would be a good start.”

Hugh nodded, “Hotel lobby, eight o’clock. Do not be late.”

He wouldn’t plan on it for the world.

Taking a breath, he looked to Kyrano, “So, IR?”

The older man watched him for a long moment, green eyes hard. Scott couldn’t help but swallow under the gaze, unsure as to why he was being subject to such scrutiny.

“How much do you know about the running of International Rescue, Scott?”

A damn site more than he did about the business, that was for sure.

But was it enough?

“Day to day running involves reviewing certain mission logs flagged up by the board, injuries, fatalities, and equipment problems. I’ve helped where I can with a few of them in the past.”

A few being the odd one that involved his team, his family. When Mom had had her hands full and he had offered to take some work off of her hands. She had always said that once he had learnt to critique his own team's work she would let him branch out to the other teams.

Did that mean she didn’t yet trust him to be thrust into her role?

“You will also have the decision of when and who to launch from the Island.” Kyrano added, “It will be down to you to choose who you send into danger, Scott. Can you do that?”

Mom had done it on a daily basis. She had sent three of her five sons, her brother, and her best friend, out into the very same kind of danger.

Sometimes she had gone with them, other times they were all split apart, each in a different corner of the world and sometimes beyond even those reaches. Yet, he had never seen her hesitate.

Was it faith in them that made her able to do it? Or was it a faith in the machines she had helped design and build?

He trusted the machines he used implicitly. It was a running joke that they all had an understanding with the ships they flew, almost like a bond between man and dog. The safety measures in place in each ship alone were enough to keep him out of trouble for the rest of his life, that was without considering everything the suit he wore did for him.

The same was true for the rest of his family.

Except…

All those measures had been in place for Dad and Mom.

Yet, there they were.

The measures had failed them both. Their faith in what they did and the equipment they had hadn’t been enough to protect either of them.

Twisting in his seat he looked back to the bed. Biting his lip he sucked in a breath as he watched the slow rise and fall of her chest. She was alive, barely. Simply because she had believed so much that she could launch Gaat’s ship, that she could get out there and find Dad.

“If you’re going to ask how she did it,” Hugh started softly, “It wasn’t without being afraid.”

In the back of his mind, he knew that much. Mom had never shown fear, but he knew that it was there. It was what all the arguments and shouting had always been about. It was why they had fought so bad just when he was about to graduate.

Yet she had still trusted them all to go out there, trusted that they would come back safe, trusted that even though the worst had happened to Dad the same wouldn’t happen to them again.

Mom had put her fear for those she loved to one side and trusted their capabilities.

They all knew what they did was dangerous, yet they had all chosen to walk the path laid by their parents. Each of them had sworn an oath, putting the lives of others above their own. How many lives had they saved thanks to the trust Mom had given them?

All he had to do was give his brothers the same trust.

In return he hoped that he could fill the shoes left for him. That the trust his family placed in him in return was well placed. That he could make the right decisions like his parents always had, and do the right thing by his team.

He would make them proud.

He had to.

Standing, he returned to his mothers side, taking her bandaged hand and squeezing her fingertips gently.

Tears threatened to sting his eyes at her lack of response, but he knew he couldn’t afford it. Swallowing hard, he screwed his eyes shut and took a calming breath. Focus was what he needed, something to do, tasks to complete.

He knew the first task on his list.

“I’ll make you proud, Mom.” He whispered, “I promise.”

Behind him, Kyrano cleared his throat and he knew he had taken too long to answer.

“If Mom did it, I can do it.” He nodded, turning back to the men as he kept hold of his mother’s hand.

Kyrano stood, holding out a pen to him, “In that case, you’d better take this.”

He frowned, recognising it as not a pen, but something that Mom had always carried with her yet she had refused to talk about.

Meeting Kyrano’s eyes, he saw the same hard look from earlier. Cool, critical, asking questions that Scott wasn’t sure of.

“Wha--”

“Kill codes.” Kyrano stated, “As leader of your team you must carry this with you at all times. If ever a Thunderbird under your teams command becomes compromised, it is down to you to make the call to shut the ship down. This device will generate a random code that allows you to do so.”

The thought made his stomach lurch, that maybe he would have to prioritise safety of the organisation over that of his family.

Mom had carried it with her.

He could too.

Nodding, he took the device, “What next?”

Kyrano’s smile was tight as he nodded in return, “Sit down, there is still much to discuss.”

#thunderbirds are go #Thunderbirds 2015 #Lucy AU #Scott Tracy #Kyrano #Hugh Creighton-Ward #Left Behind Part 1 #Left Behind Part 2 #Left Behind Part 3 #scribbles writes

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raccdog · 4 years

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UNHEALTHY COPING MECHANISMS (Part 5)

(NOW ON AO3!)

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5

Adrien laughed at the joke Nino had just told him. He was eating lunch with him and Alya, on one of those rare occasions where his father let him have some free time. The girl was going through her mobile phone, a slight frown on her face. She was sitting on the opposite side of the table, right in front of her boyfriend Nino, the space to her side empty as they waited for their fourth friend.

Adrien smiled to himself. He was glad he had made up with Marinette yesterday. He had spent the rest of the evening with her and Luka and it had been the most fun he’d had in a very long time. He had tried the tea -he had almost barfed from the pungent smell,- played videogames, sang to Disney songs as Luka played them with his guitar and most importantly, he had eaten a good deal of baked goods. That night when he had gotten into bed his stomach had been as full as his heart. The warmth of the bakery following him to his cold sheets and never leaving. One of the perks of being friends with Marinette was that, he supposed.

“Hey guys what do you think about the way Ladybug’s been acting,” Alya’s sudden question pulled him from his reverie. “What do you mean?” The blond asked, wincing inwardly. He had been avoiding the heroine, choosing the patrol routes he knew were more uncommon and not meeting up with her before or after them. She had tried calling him at the beginning, but after his avoidance she stopped, just sending curt messages in case of akuma attacks.

He knew he was acting childishly, but he couldn’t help it. Their last argument had left a bad taste in his mouth and he dreaded talking to her again, in fear of another vicious altercation happening between them. This was not the time for in-fighting either. With Master Fu and Chloe gone, and the miraculous in Hawkmoth’s possession the Parisian heroes needed to stay together more than ever.

“It’s just, there are so many reports of civilians seeing Ladybug out on patrol, even during the day too,” Alya explained. “She’s never been that active before. It’s as if she was looking for something.” Adrien frowned at that. That’d make sense actually. Maybe Ladybug had been trying to locate Master Fu’s or Hawkmoth’s location?

Deep in thought, he didn’t see a black-haired girl rushing towards them.

“I’m sorry I’m late guys!” Marinette panted behind him, startling him. “I had to talk to a teacher beforehand and I couldn’t find them anywhere.”

“Girl were you running the whole time? You look like you’ve just ran a marathon,” Alya commented worriedly, her eyes scrutinizing the other teenager. Adrien agreed. Marinette was heaving loudly, sweat running down her skin, her expression pained.

“Yeah...I didn’t want to be late to lunch,” she groaned, sitting down besides the brunette, sighing in relief as she rested, eyes closed.

The rest of the day was pretty boring, even by Adrien’s standards. The only thing he looked forwards to was his evening meeting with Kagami after fencing class.

They walked down the Seine, ice cream in hand, making small talk. Kagami hadn’t made any advances on him this time though, and Adrien felt guilty when that made him sag with relief. He liked Kagami’s company and wanted to spend time with her, but he’d be lying if he said the idea of kissing her felt... off.

It’s not that he didn’t find her beautiful, as she was ridiculously his type, but the idea of intimacy with her put him off for whatever reason. He hadn’t voiced his worries with her yet, too afraid of the consequences. Maybe it was a bit selfish of him, but he still wanted to hang out with her. If he could prolong this as long as she’d let them without any further need for intimacy, he’d try his luck, as bad as it was. He was sure the ache for close affection would appear eventually anyway, so it was only a matter of time.

“Hey, is that Ladybug?” Kagami said, looking up towards the roofs a block ahead of them. Soon enough, a flash of red could be seen jumping across Paris’ roofs. Adrien tensed for a second when she stopped and looked down, her eyes fixating on the pair for a minute before she took off, running and jumping away once again.

“I wonder what’s she doing here,” Kagami wondered aloud. “Do you think there’s any trouble?” Adrien only shook his head, anxiety crawling like bugs under his skin. “There hasn’t been any akuma alerts yet, there’s probably nothing wrong,” he told her.

But as they resumed walking his mind was filled with doubt. Something was wrong, very terribly wrong.

It was midnight when he decided to go patrolling. He was planning on talking with Ladybug today. Alya was right. The superheroine had been seen at all hours several days in a row. She was probably overworking herself again. Whatever she was doing seemed important and he couldn’t let his own pettiness get in the way of their hero responsibilities any longer.

It was almost an hour later when he decided that Ladybug wouldn’t show up tonight. Cursing his luck, he moved to a more deserted part of the city. There were plenty of abandoned sheds and factories there, where they had fought Copycat a long while ago. That would be his last stop before he gave up.

Of course the night he finally decided to meet and talk with her was the night she chose to take a break. Karma had decided to bite him in the rear, apparently. Grumbling, he paused on top of a large abandoned warehouse to check his baton. Maybe he could check his messaged and try to call her? But just before he could dial Ladybug a whiff of a familiar scent made him halt.

That smell... But it couldn’t be her. What could she possibly be doing here, so far from home? And at this hour too?

Bristling slightly he followed his nose, and soon he found the cause of his displeasure a few meters down the street, walking and scribbling away on her notebook, not even looking up. Was she crazy? Didn’t she know how dangerous it was for a girl like her to be walking alone at this hour, on a pretty deserted zone no less? With his baton’s help he leaped from the top of the warehouse, landing right in front of her and making her shriek in fright.

“What do you think you’re doing?” He chided, a growl rumbling in his throat.

“Chat Noir! You almost gave me a heart attack!” She complained, her hand on her chest.

“Don’t even start!” He yelled back, anger and worry pouring out. “What are you doing here? At this hour too!”

“Well I-”

“Do you know how dangerous it is for you to walk alone at night? And you weren’t even paying attention! What if something happened to you!”

The girl only rolled her eyes, making him flare in annoyance. “Ok mom,” she retorted, not looking at him. Chat Noir gasped indignantly. “Marinette! Don’t give me that!” He roared. “Are you out of your mind?” He waited for her to say something, his eyes searching hers, but she was still pouting and looking away from him. “What happened? What could possibly be enough of a reason for you to be fucking here!” She flinched at his cursing, making Adrien feel kind of bad for rising his voice, but at the moment he couldn’t care. She still kept silent.

“Tell me!”

“I needed inspiration for designing!” She finally screamed, her glare turned to him. Adrien felt himself take a few steps backwards, her explanation muddled by his worried and anxious thoughts.

“D-designing?” He whispered in disbelief. She was this far from home in the middle of the night just for that? He felt himself grow dizzy as he shook his head. He had to sit down before he blacked out.

“Are you trying to kill me princess?” Chat Noir sighed as he leaned down on the sidewalk, his head between his hands as he closed his eyes, the panic from before receding. He had been so unsettled with the idea of Marinette walking the shadows all alone and unprotected. “You can’t do this to me Mari, I don’t know what I would do if something happened to you,” He confessed, his voice trembling as his shoulders shook slightly.

Chat Noir heard her approach but he didn’t move. He couldn’t. Even as she sat down beside him and embraced him sideways he still couldn’t.

“I’m sorry,” her voice said in his ear. “I didn’t mean to make you so worried.”

They stood there for a while, neither of them saying anything. Chat Noir found comfort in her warm embrace. She was still there with him. She was ok. Nothing bad had happened to her. He sighed, tension finally leaving his shoulders. He returned the hug, savoring the way her body felt against his. Marinette hugs were pleasant and cozy. He wished he could get them more often, both as his superhero-self and as his civilian-self.

Finally deciding it was late enough, he stood up slowly, grabbing her hands as he went so that she followed after him.

“Come on princess, let’s get you home,” he said, Marinette nodding and stepping closer, her expression a mix of guilty and tired.

The journey to the bakery was a quiet one. Her arms around his neck held him tight as he carried her bridal-style. Chat Noir saw the bakery come closer as he jumped from house to house in mild disillusionment. He wanted to stay like that a bit longer. Keep her in his arms just for a couple of hours more, the moment unbroken. He knew she’d be safe that way at least. But, it was very late, and he didn’t have the luxury to be selfish right now. Because that’s what he was. Selfish.

Soon they landed on her terrace and she stepped down, luckily for him without her noticing the grabby motion his hands had made unthinkingly after they separated. They stood like that for a minute, neither of them sure of what to say. He searched her eyes and so did she. Her blue eyes glowed especially tonight, her gaze mysterious and bright, but so tired. He hated seeing her like that. So drained. He’d give her his own energy if he could.

Not being able to resist anymore, he stepped closer, holding her arms gently.

“Promise me you’ll never put yourself in danger like that princess,” he begged. Her eyes widened at his words, and an odd expression he couldn’t read crossed her face.

“Chat I can’t-” But he cut her off. “Please promise me Marinette,” he murmured, resting his forehead on top of her head. She just stayed silent for a while, before hesitantly nodding, making him slump in relief.

He untangled himself from her, his face feeling warm as he smiled softly down at her. Her face remained conflicted and oddly unreadable, but her promise was enough. He turned to go back to his house, barely reaching the rails before soft fingers around his leather-clad hand stopped him.

He looked at her once again, her bluebell eyes wide and bright. Too bright. They were almost gleaming. Before he could ask her if she was ok she spoke. “Chat I’m...” she started before her mouth snapped shut. She stared at him, her eyes darting all over his face. He waited for her to continue, not wanting to make her more upset than she appeared, and it seemed like whatever she was to say was of big importance. The magic was abruptly cut when she smiled, softly shaking her head as she closed her eyes, which made him blink in surprise. He had been so entranced in her deep sapphires it’d felt like a shock when they disappeared behind her eyelids.

A mild chuckle left her rosy lips, and he felt his eyes immediately zeroing on them, his face warming up even more. She looked at him once again, appearing resigned for some reason. “Nevermind Chat,” she said. “I’ll tell you another time.” She let go of his hand.

“Goodnight Chat Noir.” She whispered.

“Goodnight, princess,” He answered, frowning, but parting ways nonetheless.

As he leaped away, he couldn’t help but feel like she had meant that goodbye to be a final farewell. And he hated it.

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5

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#UCM #unhealthy coping mechanisms #miraculous fic #miraculous ladybug fic #my fic #miraculous ladybug #ml #mlb #ml season 3 #ml season three #ml spoilers #miraculous spoilers

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kimshavacado · 5 years

Text

Dead Heat Ch. 2

Pairing: Min Yoongi x reader

Genre: Yet another Arranged Marriage/Mafia AU

Summary: Three extremely powerful families with enough power to bring down entire governments, all with vastly different views on how things should be run. The Min family thinks everything can be solved with money, the Jeon family think everything can be solved with violence, and the Kim family relies more on thought which leads to a lack of action. When Kim Y/N loses her father, she only has one way to save herself and her family. But it involves having to give herself over to a stranger. How the hell is she not supposed to punch him in his stupid rich face?

Dead Heat Masterlist

Warnings: Language

A/N: Yay we finally have some Yoongi in this chapter, as well as the scene I’ve been looking forward to. Here’s to strong female leads! Enjoy lovelies.

Chapter 2: Just As Much A Queen

Most of the next day is spent with boxes and memories. You are packing up and leaving your home forever. You’d never really lived anywhere else, not even been to many other people’s houses. It was a strange concept to grasp, leaving and not coming back. You aren’t too sad to leave all of the memories, most of them not that fond anyway. But instead of reminiscing on old feelings you keep one goal in your mind: Get what you deserve. After that talk last night with Jimin, you’ve made the decision to play along. It’s really all that you can do for now before you can find a way to take back the family.

After going through the house for the better part of the day, you come up with a lousy two and a half boxes of belongings. It’s kind of sad to realize that the few things you care about in this world can fit into such a small space. But you don’t want to take anything that will bring up any bad memories of your father. Things like that could end up distracting you and you still have to keep your eyes on the prize.

Jimin picks you up in the early evening to take you to the venue of the “event.” To call it a wedding would be comical. The contracts had already been signed and this party is more of a formality for the family. It’s being held at the Min mansion which you find is undoubtedly, the largest house you’ve ever seen. Jimin gushes at the sight, talk about how great the party will probably be. Unfortunately, you aren’t able to get a good look at the interior when you arrive for the first time before you are ushered away down a long hallway towards the other side of the building. There you are led into a dressing room where some women are waiting.

When you walk in, you pretend not to notice the fact that all the girls stare at Jimin. He is already dressed for the event and honestly, looking fine as hell. This is something he gets a lot of and you’ve gotten used to others gawking in his presence. If only these poor girls knew.

The girls help you into a dark blue dress and help you appear presentable in between fawning over Jimin. Once they’re done, they leave you and Jimin alone in the room. As you look in the mirror you find yourself surprised. A bit of a smile finds its way onto your face as you admire the choice of clothing.

“A bit full of ourselves, are we?” Jimin comments, noticing you admiring yourself.

“It’s not that, it’s just… blue, not white. It makes it seem like less of a wedding.” You’re a bit perplexed as to who had picked it out. You turn back to Jimin. “And you’re one to talk.”

“Hey, it’s not my fault the girls love me. Unlike some people, I don’t need dresses and makeup to look good.”

You’re about to tackle him right there until you hear a knock on the door. It’s time to go.

You’re drunk. Not completely shitfaced but enough. It definitely helps you get through the night, though. Most of the people here, you’ve never met before, only occasionally recognizing some members of your family. There’s no one you’re really close with though, except for Jimin, who you currently find partying hard on the other side of the room probably four or five cocktails in. He’s always the life of the party on nights like this.

The venue is perfect for a party, and you may have enjoyed yourself in a different situation. The hall is large and grand, and could probably fit over a hundred people. Large round tables are scattered across the floor with a main table towards the front where you are sat. From your position, you are able to admire the grandness of the room. At first glance, the ceiling appears overly adorned in gold. There’s classical paintings and strange images that seem entirely too distracting. Then you notice the background, stars. Behind all of the pictures and gold is a night sky that stretches to each end of the room. It’s a shame so much of it is covered by other paintings. You think it’d be poetically beautiful to paint an entire ceiling as a night sky.

Your thoughts are interrupted by congratulations from Jin who has come to your and Yoongi’s table. You smile and thank him and as he turn away and heads towards the other board members, your eyes send daggers at the back of his head.

“Didn’t your mother ever tell you if you scowl like that your face will stick?” That’s right, he’s here. It takes every bit of your being to not make a snappy comeback, and all you can do is look away from him. You need him to tolerate you if you’re ever going to get your position back. Who knows, he could probably help you. But you know he won’t because you know exactly the kind of guy he is. He just shrugs off your reaction and goes back to staring straight ahead like you. What a lively couple we are.

This entire party is for everyone but you two, and you get more and more relieved as the guest leave. Jimin is long gone, taken home by the driver after passing out around the desert table an hour ago. You’re about to fall asleep while watching the stragglers when you hear Yoongi’s voice next to you.

“Get up, I’ll show you your room.” He says above you. For a moment you sag lower in your chair. It’s like every time he talks, you remember you’re supposed to be married now and become filled with dread. Still, you silently get up and follow him out of the grand hall down two separate corridors before you find yourself in a section of the house that gives off more homely vibes. He points to the door behind you.

“That is your room. It’s one of the places you’re allowed to go. You’re also allowed to walk back to the main part of the house, but nowhere else. My room and my study are on the other side of the hallway.” He points to a set of doors towards the end of the hall. “Never go in there, do you understand?” You nod. “Don’t leave the house unless you tell me first, I’ll have a guard everywhere with you.” At this your face changes.

“I’m not allowed to leave?” You ask.

“Not unless I say so sweetheart.” Damn he really is a cocky ass. He raises his eyebrows. “Do you understand?” He mockingly asks. The nerve on this guy!

“Yes sir.” You say a little too sarcastically complete with a salute. His eyebrows furrow as his face twists in confusion. You don’t give him the opportunity to question your weird response as you rush past the door behind you, slamming it shut to separate yourself from him.

You hadn’t seen him in the last few days, which isn’t something you’re too torn up about. You did, however, find yourself bored out of your mind. All you’ve done for the last few days is read, watch TV, and sleep. You now wish you had brought more things from home instead of leaving everything that could distract you from your goal. You’re not going anywhere with it now anyway, what were you supposed to do, just go to the Kims and demand that Jin give you your place? It’d be easier if your captor was on your side. But nothing will work anyway if you die of boredom first.

You’ve tried to go find more to do but are always stopped by this guard who seems to pop out of nowhere as soon as you think about breaking the rules by leaving your “designated areas.” Doing nothing productive has left you feeling drained. You want to see Jimin, but you haven’t heard from him since the party. You probably understood why he didn’t contact you the first day, probably too hungover to leave his bed. But after that, you started to get worried. It was unlike Jimin to suddenly stop talking to you, he’d want to know everything about your new life.

After a week, a Netflix binge, and about 40 phone calls that Jimin didn’t pick up, you start to panic on the inside. Surely if something had happened to him, you would know about it right? All you could do for all these days is reassure yourself. But it’s eating you up inside and you have to know. So you leave your room determined to only return with answers.

“Hey there.” The guard says, already standing to hover over you as soon as you’re through the threshold of your doorway. He’s attempting to establish dominance. So you, in turn, fix your posture to mean business

“I need to go see my friend.” You say up to him.

“Sorry,” He says, clearly not meaning it, “no can do.” What? Why not? It’s not like it has anything to do with Yoongi.

“It’s an emergency, and he’s really important to me.”

“Hmm. No.” He says again, almost sing-song. Wow.

“Are you kidding me?” You say, your obedient façade starting to break.

“Look kid, I can’t let you see or contact anyone, at least for now. Boss’s orders.”

Well now you’re upset for even more reasons. If they aren’t letting you contact anyone, maybe the issue is on your end and Jimin isn’t getting any calls from you. This could be bad, what if he thinks you’re dead or something? You two are all each other have, he’d be as broken as you are right now.

“Where is Yoongi?” You aggressively ask the large man in front of you.

“Busy. In a meeting.”

“But he’s here.” The guard seems confused by your statement and before you know it, you’re sweeping your leg under his and pushing his head towards the ground. It hits with a thud and he stays there.

Oops. Well you did say you wouldn’t go back to your room without answers.

You leave the confinements of the living section of the mansion and look for the place where business is conducted. Let’s just say, if someone were to see you walking through the house, it would look like a wild animal angrily looking for prey. You’re bursting through doors and making a ruckus. Every time you find an empty meeting room, the emotions in you get more intense. You feel the physical and metaphorical separation between you and the one person you care about as well as the person keeping you from him. Who cares about what Yoongi thinks of you anymore, he won’t be of any help anyway. You want some damn answers.

When you reach the far end of the building you come across a large set of double doors. You continue your rampage and burst through only to find a large group of very intimidating looking men standing around a large table in the middle of the room. Definitely giving off evil vibes.

“Y/n!? What- How’d you get here?” Ah there he is, just the person you wanted to see.

“Let me leave.”

“What?”

“I have had enough of this crap, I can’t even contact anyone? What the hell?”

“Y/N we will talk about this later, as you can see, I’m a bit busy.”

“Did you do something to Jimin?” His face changes. Great.

Never once have you felt the way that you feel right now. Even when you think about all the shit you’ve been put through the past 24 years of your life, nothing comes close to the scale of the fire coursing through your vanes in this moment. It’s not just anger, it’s bigger and more complex. Sure, you’re angry. At your father, at yourself, and at the asshole standing in front of you. But there’s something that adds a hollowness to the melting pot of emotions inside of you. Loneliness. Helplessness. That man’s stupid face as it looks at you certainly doesn’t help. He has this confused expression that’s just dying to be wiped off of his face by a sharp cut of your hand. It seems comical how dull someone could be. You feel everything piling up to the point where you’re about to explode. But instead of keeping face as usual you storm toward the man with fire in your eyes.

You stand directly in front of him, probably closer than you should, and steel yourself, looking directly into his eyes.

“I want you to understand something Yoongi.” It’s frightening how quickly you created this aura around yourself that would induce fear in anyone. “I’ve been through a lot of shit in my life, as I’m sure you can imagine. But every time something stands in my way,” You lower your voice. “I move it.”

Yoongi seems to be frozen in awe with his mouth slightly open so you continue. “That being said, I’m not your pet, I’m not your wife, and I’m certainly not your prisoner. You and I are the same.” You jut your finger into his chest when you say this. “I’m just as much a queen as you are a king, only I deserve it more. So I want you to know that if you stand in the way of me and the things I love, I’ll cut you down. I don’t care who the hell you think you are.” When he remains silent you turn to leave and walk past all the men who just overheard your little tantrum. Before you can exit the room, Yoongi finally speaks up.

“Y/N, trust me. You don’t want to see him right now.”

“Did you not listen to anything I just said!?” Seriously, how dull is he?

“Jimin isn’t who you think he is Y/N.”

A/N: I love to finally write Y/N as an angry character. I haven’t seen enough Y/N’s in this genre that are rough around the edges. I can’t wait to see more aggression!

Next Chapter

#min yoongi #min yoongi fanfic #park jimin #bts yoongi #bts jimin #yoongi x reader #jimin fluff #yoongi smut #bts fanfic #bts smut #bts fluff #bts scenarios #bts imagines

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thewritewolf · 5 years

Text

Nino’s Quest Chapter 1: Gathering the Party

When his uncle leaves for Morocco, it looks like Nino might be stuck without any Dungeons and Dragons for a few months. Since this is a terrible fate, Nino takes it upon himself to make a campaign of his very own.

Now if only he could find a party...

Thank you to @alienducky for inspiring me to expand on this one shot from last year’s fictober prompt! And thanks to @marinoodles for letting me steal her name!

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 Part 10 (Final)

Enjoy!

Read on Ao3. My ko-fi.

“As you clutch Raygar close, he whispers a single name into your ear as if it were the most important thing in the world: ‘Doznak.’ The moment the word passes his lips, the light leaves his eyes.”

“No! Not my dude Raygar!” Nino wailed, his fist hitting the table, gently shaking the drinks that had been set on it.

“...And I think that’s where we’ll end this session. Thanks for coming out, you guys.” Uncle Hassan gave a hug to the other two party members as they left, leaving just him and Nino to pick up. “Thanks for the help, little man. How are you liking this campaign?”

“It’s totally awesome, uncle dude!” Nino raised his voice to be heard as he carried the glasses to the kitchen and left them in the sink. “Each story gets better than the last. And man! Tonight’s cliffhanger. I can’t wait to get the low down on who this Doznak dude is next week.”

When he returned, he saw his uncle smiling sheepishly and rubbing the back of his neck. “Yeah… about that.”

“What?”

“I’m going to be visiting your grandpa in Tangier. So, uh, you might be waiting on that thrilling conclusion for a while.”

Giving his uncle a suspicious look, he asked, “How long is a ‘while’, exactly?”

“I won’t be back until New Year’s, kiddo.”

Nino gaped. “Dude!” He said, betrayed. “We’re only just at the end of summer! How am I supposed to wait that long?!”

Uncle Hassan chuckled. “Well, you’ll be starting school soon. That’ll help keep your mind off it, right?”

“Maybe a little.” Nino pouted and pulled his cap down, trying to hide his disappointment.

A large hand settled on his shoulder and Nino looked up into the hazel eyes of his uncle. “Kiddo, you’ve been doing great and it’s been fantastic having you around in the game. But sometimes groups have to take a break for a while. These things happen.”

Nino sagged. “But… I was just getting the hang of Dungeons and Dragons…”

“Well, you don’t have to stop.” Nino looked up, curiosity getting the better of him. “My books are just going to get dusty waiting for me here. Why don’t you take them and make a campaign of your own? Invite your friends. Trust me, it’ll be way more fun than playing with us geezers.” Uncle Hassan laughed, his eyes sparkling with mirth.

His friends? Nino thought of Adrien, with his impenetrably dense schedule. Alya and her lack of interest in games, whether they be board games or video games. Marinette and her tendency to always be juggling fifty projects at once. Although… they weren’t his only friends, right? It couldn’t be that hard to find two or three people willing to game with him like once a week.

“You know… you might be onto something.” A grin reached Nino’s face as he took the rulebooks that his uncle passed him. Outside, a car honked its horn - his dad was there to pick him up.

“Tell my brother-in-law I said hello. And good luck, kiddo!”

Nino waved and felt his mind light up with the possibilities of adventure.

--------------------

The last month of summer went by in a blur as Nino put his mind to work getting his campaign drafted. When school started, he took a few weeks to get back into the swing of things before he started the hunt for a new party.

That’s where he hit a snag.

There weren’t that many Dungeons and Dragons players in his class. Or, at least, not many that he knew of. He managed to corner all three of them during lunch and pitched his campaign to them.

“...So what’d ya think, dudes? Sound like a party or what?”

Max cleared his throat and pushed up his glasses. “I really am very sorry, Nino, but I’ve been kept adequately busy with my work on game design. While I’d love to join up, it would cut into my other projects. Regrettably, I’ll have to decline.”

“Alright, dude, no sweat.” Nino patted Max on the shoulder and turned toward the other two. “What about you guys?”

Juleka shook her head. “Sorry. I just started one with Rose. Can’t back out now, you know?”

“And I just got hooked on a new MMO with Ivan,” Mylene said with a wince. “If I stop now, I’ll lose my placing that I worked so hard for!”

“Major bummer.” Nino tugged at his cap as all four of them got up to return to their usual seats.

“According to my projections, I’ll have a greater likelihood of joining on the next adventure.”

“Maybe next campaign,” Mylene patted his arm as she walked past him.

“Yeah, we can try again next time.” Juleka paused. “Have you tried asking Adrien?”

Nino shook his head. “Nah, dude is always super busy.”

‘Sure, but he was asking me and Rose about D&D. I dunno, maybe just try it?”

“Really?” Nino perked up. His best friend had gone home for lunch, but he was still just a text away. “It might be worth a shot. Thanks, Juleka.”

“No problem. Good luck.”

Taking a seat at the table next to Alya, Nino shot a quick text to Adrien.

Nino: Heard you were asking about DnD. You game?

“What’s that about, babe?” Alya asked, looking over his shoulder.

“I’m trying to get a party together for Dungeons and Dragons.”

“Dang, and the first half of that sentence was so promising.”

“So is that a pass then?” Nino said with a faint smile. While sometimes he could get her to play games with him, he understood that it wasn’t her favorite. Just like how he didn’t share her love of rom coms, but indulged her every now and again.

“Yeah, babe. Although…” She looked at Marinette as she rushed into the building clutching a brown bag with the Dupain-Cheng bakery logo. “...there might be potential there.”

“Hey, guys!” Marinette sat down opposite them and opened the bag, passing some chocolatines to the two of them. “What’re we talking about?”

“Hey, M.” Alya leaned forward. “Do you ever play roleplaying games?”

“Um, sometimes? You know my favorite is fighting games, but I’m up for some adventure sometimes.” Marinette tilted her head to the side. “Why?”

“Well, Nino here was thinking about running a Dungeons and Dragons campaign…”

“I’m… not sure.” Marinette’s eyes widened. “Not that I’m not interested! It sounds like it’d be fun to do with friends. But I don’t know if I’ll be able to find the time. Plus-”

She was interrupted by the sound of Nino’s phone going off. He’d left it on the table, so everyone could see that it was from Adrien. A small smile crept across Nino’s face when he heard the little intake of breath when Marinette noticed.

“S-so, um, how’s- how’s Adrien?”

Poor dude. The guy isn’t even here and she is stuttering. Nino pulled up the text.

Adrien: Yes!!! I got all the rulebooks months ago and I’ve done my best to learn but no one plays. [sad cat emojii] Are you going to be a DM??

Chuckling, Nino sent him another message.

Nino: You bet! Would you be able to meet once a week?

The response was immediate.

Adrien: Maybe if I say I’m working on a group project? I could pull it off, yeah.

With a huge grin, he looked back up at the girls. “My boy is in!”

Marinette bounced up and down in place. “Then so am I!”

“Oh?” Alya leaned forward with a smirk. “What happened to not having the time?”

“I will find the time, I promise. But gaming with friends? And Adrien? Too good an opportunity to pass up.” She met Nino’s eyes and had the good graces to look sheepish.

“Nah, don’t worry about it. If this means I get more players, than I don’t mind.” He turned towards his girlfriend. “Speaking of more players… Now everybody else is in. How ‘bout you?”

Alya rolled her eyes with a smile. “I guess someone has to keep an eye on you hooligans.”

“Nice. This is going to be great!”

-------------------

Nino: And… we… are… LIVE!

We’ve been expecting you, Adrien Agreste

Marinette joined your party. Everyone look busy!

Alya is here, just as the prophecy foretold.

Nino: Say hello everybody

Adrien: Hello everybody

Nino: You’re hilarious

Marinette: hello! Hey guys!

Alya: Sup

Nino: We’ll be using this Discord server for all Dnd related things, k? Mostly for planning new sessions

Adrien: What about… spicy memes?

Nino: Know what, bro? I’ll make a channel that you can spam to your hearts content

Adrien: <3

Nino has changed his name to Lord DM

Alya: Seriously

Lord DM: Definitely

Adrien has changed his name to Adrien Regreste

Alya: Pffft

Adrien Regreste: Come on, Mari! Its what all the cool kids are doing!

Alya: Hey now

Marinette has changed her name to marinoodles

Marinoodles: ...How’s that?

Adrien Regreste: ;-; Its so cute. And also hilarious??

Marinoodles: I mena thank you! *mean

Alya has changed her name to Alya’ll Beware

Alya’ll Beware: Sweetie you know you can just edit your comments right

Marinoodles: ...Now I do.

Lord DM: Lol Anyway. How’s this weekend looking?

Alya’ll Beware: Just jumping right into it, arent you? But yeah I’m free

Marinoodles: I babysit Manon on sunday but saturday is clear!

Adrien Regreste: I can pull off saturday! Where are we meeting??

Lord DM: Whoever we meet at provides food. Since I am DM, I am exempt. (Plus my place is always supes crowded)

Adrien Regreste: Uh I can probably manage it off. Father will be out of town with Nathalie. The Gorilla is much more lenient hwen it’s just us.

Marinoodles: Gret sounding! *Thta sounds gerat! **That sounds great!

Adrien Regreste: Haha, yeah! I’m pumped to have you guys over. :)

----------------

Despite Nino’s fear of a repeat from last time, none of them were thrown out or belittled on their way to Adrien’s room. The worst that any of them received was an uncertain glare from the Gorilla as they filed upstairs.

As it turned out, the most difficult problem they had to face was Adrien’s purchasing habits. Nino had to explain to him that even though they were teenagers playing D&D, there was no way they’d be able to get through five pizzas and all the drinks he’d ordered. After he’d extracted a promise not to go overboard again, Nino went straight into explaining the basics and had them roll for stats.

“You sure about this, dude?” Nino leaned over Adrien’s shoulder and frowned at his character sheet. “I get you’re gonna be a bard, but max Charisma and low Wisdom just sounds like a recipe for disaster.”

Nino could just barely overhear Alya whisper to Marinette, “Attractive but kinda dense? Doesn’t that sound like someone we know…?”

“ALYA,” Marinette whispered back in a scandalized tone.

“Maybe, but that just means it might be more memorable, right?” Adrien looked up at Nino and couldn’t hold out against the excitement he saw in his eyes.

“Sure, bro.” Nino walked over to the girls. “And how’re you two hanging?” He craned his neck to see where Marinette was sticking her highest stats. “Dexterity… and intelligence? Good choices for a rogue.”

Marinette smiled. “Thanks! I’ve been thinking about her background. Get this - the rebel daughter of an elven baron.” She nudged Alya. “Pretty neat, right?”

“Wow, that sounds way cool, Marinette!” Adrien beamed at her and she melted.

“Than- than- Thanks, Adrien! You’re cool too!” She winced, but Adrien’s smile didn’t dim.

Nino raised an eyebrow as he noticed her hit points. “But, uh, why’d you stick your lowest stat in Constitution? Your dude isn’t gonna be able to take a hit.”

A sly smirk spread across her face. “I won’t need to take a hit if I play my character right.”

“Heh. Fair enough.” Nino turned his attention to Alya’s sheet, only to see it blank. “Um, something wrong, babe?”

“I dunno.” Alya shrugged. “I’m not big into games like you guys are, so its all going in one ear and out the other.”

“Well…” Nino took a seat next to her and thumbed through the core rulebook. “Maybe we should just keep it simple, right? So you can get your bearings.”

“A fighter?” Alya raised an eyebrow. “Seems kinda boring.”

“Yeah? How about a knight errant, looking for glory to make her name in the world? Rushing forward to defend the weak from the strong? Still sound boring?”

A grin split her face. “Now you’re speaking my language, cappy.”

“That’s Lord DM Cappy to you, babe.”

“Don’t push it.”

“Okay, so let me see if I get where we’re standing.” Adrien pushed the hair out of his face and looked at the three of them. He pointed to himself. “I’m a half-elf bard.” The finger shifted to Marinette who blushed and frantically waved at him. “Elven rogue.” Alya fell under his digit next. “Human fighter. Where does that leave you, Lord DM Cappy?”

Alya groaned and Nino chuckled. “Since someone needs to watch out for you guys, I’m going to be playing a human cleric. A priest of the sun.”

“Sounds like we’re pretty well balanced? Well,” Adrien ducked his head. “Except for me. Maybe it’d be better if I just played a wizard…?”

“N-no!” Marinette quickly interjected. “Adrien, you can be what-whatever you want to be!”

“Dude has a point. There is more to having fun than being the most efficient party possible, bro.”

“Alright.” Adrien relaxed. “Awesome.”

“Now, let’s get everything else sorted for character creation. And while we do that, I can tell you a little about the world you find yourselves in…”

As Nino began by telling them of the Good King Hamon, he felt a spark light up from within. He could already tell this was going to be the best campaign.

#Miraculous Ladybug #Nino Lahiffe #Alya Cesaire #DJ Wifi #Adrien Agreste #Marinette Dupain-Cheng #Adrienette #Dungeons and Dragons #D&D #ml fanfiction #my writing #Nino's Quest

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writeanapocalae · 5 years

Text

Inktober Day 2: Explosion

Gavin jumped out of the car, barely putting it in park, not caring that he was too far away from the curb. Other officers, usually his friends but currently just background noise, shouted at him, tried to stop him, but there was no stopping him. He pushed his way past them, past the androids that came out of the building, wide eyed and flashing red.

Everything was blue.

Somehow, he got inside. He was coughing, wheezing. There was so much smoke. He could see shapes through it but the lights were the most use. He pulled up his shirt, covering his nose and mouth before calling out for one android in particular.

He called and called but those that were scrambling past him, those that grabbed at him, too broken to carry themselves out, were staring at him with as much confusion as he was showing worry.

One of them, a woman who was missing her right arm, thirium pouring down her side and staining her slightly melted face, put a hand on his shoulder.

“Who are you looking for? Who’s Nines?” she asked, her voice so calm she must not have been a deviant.

Of course, no wonder none of them had tried to help him. They didn’t know Nines, not by name.

“My partner. He’s a, uh, an RK900.” He hoped that was enough. He’d never memorized the serial number.

She tilted her head and thought for a moment as more androids shoved past, trickling instead of flooding now. There weren’t many left in the building that had survived the explosion or the collapse after, he assumed.

“It is upstairs, apartment 206. Damages are minimal to the unit.” she stated.

Gavin almost felt cold, even though he knew that the building was burning. He hated it when people, android or not, referred to Nines as an it. He rushed off, not bothering to thank her. She wouldn’t feel any way about it either way. The entrance had been mostly cleared out by those moving through it but there was more rubble, more broken walls and cracked floors the closer he got to the stairs. He’d never been to the android apartments before, but he found the stairs easily enough, he just had to find the long lines of blue.

The railing was a curled twisting thing, the steps broken and sagging, even though they were cement and rebar. A gardener android pushed past him in his urge to get out of there, the upper half of a Traci, bleeding and sobbing wrapped around his chest, clinging to his neck.

The 3rd floor ceiling had collapsed. There were chunks of it everywhere but, in between 205 and 209 was the largest piece of it. That didn’t mean it was too big though, only about seven feet, and Gavin had a sudden, horrible turn in his gut as he realized that the apartments for androids, at least, those on this floor, were slightly larger than lockers. A place to go into stasis and nothing more.

He pushed through the dust and the smoke closer, to where he could see flashing flickering red in a synchronized pair.

Nines was on his knees, one hand hoisting up the massive chunk of concrete. Even though his muscles were synthetic Gavin could see the strain as he held it up. Beneath the slab was another android, one that Gavin didn’t know the designation of but had dark hair and a strong jaw and were pretty much everywhere. This one though was pressed flat from the waist down and was trying to drag himself out from under the collapsed roof. He wasn’t doing well.

“Phck!” Gavin growled and reached under the slab, grabbing the android by the armpits. He cried out as he grasped at Gavin back, the pain apparent in his face as Gavin dragged him out. Nines dropped the floor as soon as the android was free and panting.

“Get him out of here,” Nines ordered, “and yourself while you’re at it.”

“What the phck?” Gavin shot him a look but he was already helping the whimpering and shuddering android into his arms, so that he could carry him out of there. “I just phcking found you, you piece of shit!”

“You should not have.” Nines stood and stared at the ceiling, eyes scanning through the floor into the apartments. “This place is far too dangerous for a human.”

“It’s too dangerous for you too, dumbass! Or did you not realize that a bomb went off?”

“There’s another explosive in the building.” Nines pointed with that one arm. Gavin noted that the other was hanging limp and dead at his side. The white of his sleeve was a deep blue starting at the elbow. “You have to get out of here before it goes off.”

“I’m not leaving without you!” Gavin argued.

“I have a job to do.” Nines started to walk towards the part of the 3rd floor that hadn’t fallen but sloped. Gavin knew he was planning on climbing it, going up further. “If you remain here when the explosive detonates you will have a 3% chance of surviving.”

“What about you?”

Nines didn’t even look at him. “I have to get everyone still alive out of here.”

“You know what I mean, tin can! You gonna live or what?”

“If I am here when the explosive detonates I will have a 1.2% chance of surviving. I recommend you do not tarry me further.”

Gavin swore under his breath. There were fingers digging into his shoulder, a red LED pressed against his chest, wires and thirium dripping down his thighs from where he was holding the half crushed android. Nines was right though, he always was.

Getting down and out of the building was easier than getting inside and to Nines. There were techs everywhere, firefighters preparing to take care of the fire that was spreading, and the bomb squad, as well as the seemingly endless sea of androids and police.

“Everyone away from the building!” Gavin bellowed, walking as quickly as he could towards one of the tech vans. “There’s another bomb in the building! I repeat! Get away from the building!”

Someone must have heard him because the message was repeated over intercom and people started to move, getting further from the building than their initial training had told them to. Gavin set the android down with one of the techs, though his fingers were now half embedded in Gavin’s jacket and he didn’t seem willing to let him go. Guy must have been in shock. Gavin hated to leave him there but he also couldn’t leave Nines alone inside. He just had to hope that Nines would get everyone else out. He would never take care of himself first. Selfless to the end.

He knew it was coming. He knew that Nines was right about it. That didn’t help him brace for it when it did come, when the building shattered and glass flew out in all directions. The sound was like a single bullet being fired multiplied by a thousand and followed by a terrible rolling thunder that never seemed to end. Even though he was far enough away not to get hit by debris he could feel the wind hit him like little shards and a high pitched ringing took over his hearing.

He was rushing back. He wasn’t his own. His legs moved on instinct. 1.2% was a blaring red sign in his head. Nines was in there. He was probably dead or dying but Gavin knew he was in there. He couldn’t be in there alone. He couldn’t die alone. The others were better at slowing him down this time. Fowler even stepped in, put his hand on Gavin’s chest, threatened to fire him. He didn’t care. That didn’t matter. His job was all that he had, all that he was, but that didn’t matter. Nines had come into his life. He couldn’t let him leave it again, not like this.

He shoved past, ignored the continued yelling. He made it to the door, jumping over the bomb squad’s perimeter and their own little robot, and shoved through the buckled wood. It was now completely dark. There was no red to see by. There was just smoke and debris.

“NINES?” he screeched, pushing himself through it, feeling hands creeping up to him, trying to grab at him, trying to pull him back. They tightened in his jacket and he let them pull it off of him so he could dart further, climb the piles of cement, look for his partner. Look for his friend. “NINES YOU BETTER NOT BE DEAD YOU SACK OF SHIT!”

You pushed through and forward, trying to get to the stairs. Nines had been working his way up. He didn’t even get halfway there when he felt a thick smattering of water splash onto him. If it weren’t for that terribly familiar chemical smell he would have thought it was just water, anyway. It wasn’t.

With the flashlight on his phone he could see the blue that had landed on him. He was practically covered in blue by now but this large drop had landed on his heart, where his jacket had kept him clean before.

He brought his phone up, the light illuminating the floors above him, all exposed now. There was a hand, hanging over the side of part of the whole, dripping blue blood. The sleeve on it was also blue but he could tell it was once white.

“Shit! NINES! I’M HEADING UP THERE! DON’T MOVE!” He screamed as loud as he could hearing the building groan in response, as if it wanted to keep him away itself.

He pushed through harder, moved faster, some semblance of hope that Nines may have survived growing in his chest. His muscles ached, his lungs burned, and he could feel the heat grow as the fire started to eat at the walls, invisible to him but very much present.

He made it to the stairs but, that was it. He couldn’t go any further. They had completely collapsed. He felt the air leave him, his hopes also collapse. He couldn’t get there. He couldn’t find Nines. If he was still alive he was going to die alone.

The building shuddered and he heard a few thuds, more collapsing and falling. He didn’t have much time. He knew there were others in the building. They were coming for him.

A door crashed to the floor and smoke billowed out into the main space. Gavin couldn’t see at first, the flames within the room blinding him to what was coming. All he could tell from the silhouette was that it was vaguely human in shape. Then the smoke overtook the flames, and he could see.

Nines.

He was pulling himself through the doorway, walking on a leg that looked like it was ready to collapse beneath him with each step. There was a hole going through his thigh. His jaw was clenched, his eyes on Gavin and there was a look on his face, pure determination, intimidating and even more so because a large chunk of his skin had broken off. His teeth were visible, though they were stained blue as was most of that side of his face, even the sclera of his eye had pooled with it. And his arm. Of course, it was missing. What was left were tubes and mechanical parts, hanging from him. Blue was pouring out of him.

“You came back,” he stated. His voice was more machine than it had ever been before, not an echo but a tinny quality to it, as if he was actually speaking through a tin can.

“Of course,” Gavin showed his own teeth, not sure what he was supposed to do. A large part of him wanted to rush forward and grab Nines, hold him close like he had the half flat android. There was another part of him though that knew to stay away because Nines was strong and scary as hell and would never accept his help.

The fire fighters were shouting after them. They were almost there. They were going to be alright.

“Thirium levels at 27% and dropping,” Nines admitted, eyes flickering down. “Shutdown imminent.”

They weren’t going to be fine. Nines took another step and, without the door frame to keep himself upright he staggered, half falling. He didn’t catch himself. He didn’t need to. Gavin was there, hands calloused and rough on Nines’ waist. The android lay his head on Gavin’s shoulder, face half buried in his neck.

“It’s okay, plenty of thirium just a few yards away. You’re going to be okay.” Gavin promised.

Nines wasn’t a deviant, but he was certain he could feel him shaking as he stained Gavin’s skin with his blue.

#jotober #detroit become human #gavin reed #rk900 #my writing #fanfiction #whumptober2019 #no. 2

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96percentdone · 5 years

Text

The Moonlit Prince and the Lying Thief (Part 2)

Am I late? Yeah. Sorry about that kids I’ve been very busy today! But it’s a day 2 entry anyway for @oumasaiweek, and my tangled AU continues on strong! I think you’ll like the update.

As always, if you want to read the whole thing, you can find it on my blog. I tag them all v3 Tangled AU. I hope you enjoy!

Underneath the all-encompassing darkness of the night, three shadowy figures traverse the bumpy rooftop shingles adorning the palace roof. The figures in the back, a pair of siblings with flowing black hair and matching green clothes, slide and stumble ever so slightly as they trail behind the short man in the front. They do not complain, for they know he would only stop to mock them. ‘Nishishi~ You agreed to this job and yet you can’t handle some roof parkour!’ Instead they whisper amongst themselves, brother and sister, about their plans once the crown is safe from the grasp of the kingdom.

The man in front, the elusive Doukeshi, is aware of his partners’ unpreparedness, but it doesn’t concern him. If he could do this job alone, he would have, but robbing the King and Queen is not a task for only one man, as skilled as he may be. He was not involving his family in this. Should this last quest go wrong, it is better for them to remain where they are, safe. Beneath the venetian harlequin mask, cool violet eyes narrow at the faint specks of blue on the horizon. The sun is rising, and with the sun he’s doomed to fail, but he smirks. He’s always liked a challenge.

Over the bridge, and through the woods, Shuuichi lies in his warm bed, reading a worn-out novel by the flickering light of the lantern. He should be sleeping—there’s still time before sunrise, but he woke up early, and he’s almost through with the book, so he’ll finish it before he sees his aunt off in the morning. The tower is an easy place to leave, so long as you have the patience to plow through the pages. With a faint smile, he turns the page.

There’s a knock on the entrance to his room. Looking up he’s greeted by the tired and wrinkled face of Tsumugi. “You’re up so early, Shuuichi,” she says, taking a seat at the foot of the bed.

He slides the familiar red bookmark in place, and closes the book. “Good morning, Aunt Tsumugi. I could say the same to you.”

“Yes well, I have a few more errands than usual to run today, so I thought it would be best of me to get a head start.” She laughs, and cards her fingers through the feet of his long silver hair by the foot of the bed, pulling it gently into her lap. There’s the faintest hint of wrinkles behind her tired blue eyes.

“Do you need me to sing before you go?”

“If you would, dear.”

“Okay.” Taking a deep breath, he closes his eyes and sings. “Flower gleam and glow. Let your power shine. Make the clock reverse. Bring back what once was mine.” As he sings, white light travels from the roots of his hair down the long silver strands. “Heal what has been hurt. Change the fates’ design. Save what has been lost. Bring back what once was mine.” The wrinkles dissipate from her hands and face. “What once was mine.”

When the song ends, the light fades from his hair, and Tsumugi leans forth, pressing a light kiss to the top of his head. “Thank you.” Rising from her seat, the hair in her lap falls back to the bed. “I should head out. I’ll be back in a few hours, okay? Oh—” She stops herself at the entranceway. “Do you need anything? Although keep in mind your birthday is tomorrow.”

Ah yes, Shuuichi’s birthday, the day his aunt took him in after his parents’ passing, or so he’s told. “Actually,” he starts, but the rest of the sentence is caught deep in his throat. There is something he wants, something he’s wanted for as long as he can remember, but he doesn’t know how to ask. Can he ask? He’s not allowed to leave the tower, and yet—“For my birthday, I wanted to…”

“You wanted to…?” But she already can sense the answer.

“I was hoping to see those floating lights,” Shuuichi finishes, weakly, casting a nervous glance at his aunt.

“Oh? The stars?” And though she phrases it as a question, there’s an implicit ‘we’ve discussed this before.’

“I really don’t think they are.” Shuuichi gets up, running his hands along the numerous books lining the many bookcases in his room, before pulling out an astronomy book. He flips to the maps in the back—it’s easier to read than the other book’s maps—and shows it to her. “There are no stars like that. Not in any of the books you’ve given me.” And he has at least seven devoted to stars.

“Yes, well, we did talk about this didn’t we?” Tsumugi sighs, long and exhausted, and gently closes the old leathery book in his hands. “You’re just plain unsafe outside. I wouldn’t feel comfortable risking it.” She could use several excuses—he’ll trip over his hair, there’s plenty of unknown disease, that the world is selfish and wicked—but she’ll stick with her best bet. “Besides, I don’t think you’ll be able to handle it. If anyone tried to kidnap or hurt you, you wouldn’t be able to take a stand for yourself. You’re quite fragile, dear. And very easy to scare.”

He deflates, shoulders sagging as his eyes drop to stare at the floor. Despite taking him in for purely selfish reasons, her heart twinges a little whenever sadness overtakes those eyes. But it isn’t enough to change her mind. She will never let him leave. Running a hand through silky silver hair, she cups his cheek, and he looks up at her. “Think about what you want while I��m out, okay? I’ll go as far as I must to make it up to you.” Of course, she won’t go too far, but they both know he won’t ask that of her.

He nods, the smallest suggestion of a smile gracing his lips. A sign she can leave at ease. Together they head to the living room window, and he rings his hair around the hook, preparing to lower her down. “Take care. I love you.”

“I love you too~ You can sleep in some more, but make sure to clean up before I return, okay?” As soon as she’s made it to the grass clearing safely, Shuuichi heads back to his book, losing himself in an ongoing adventure.

Like all of his adventures, the trickiest part for Doukeshi is not getting caught. He doesn’t make a single sound as the siblings lower him from the skylight in the roof, merely observing his surroundings. Only a single guard is on duty in the enormous and vacant room, standing before the podium that holds the prince’s unused crown, and humming a small tune. The relaxed security is exactly what makes this the prime time to strike.

Carefully, he picks up the sparkling silver crown, and pockets it in his leather satchel. The guard doesn’t seem to notice. In and out, super simple. But he doesn’t think that’s quite so fun, now is it? “Never heard that song before, what’s it called?” With his free hand he cups his cheek, feigning curiosity.

“Oh, it’s called You—” But the oblivious guard stops himself. Why is anyone talking to him at this hour? He jumps up, whirling around and jostling the hat on his head that doesn’t quite fit over the spikes of purple hair, only to see the masked thief gleefully waving at him as he ascends towards the ceiling. “You come back here with that crown!”

Back on the roof, Doukeshi laughs, undoing the harness with ease, and the sun slowly rises behind him. “Lady, gentleman, I think it’s time we go.” The alarm bell rings loud and clear, and they take off towards the outskirts of town.

The bell can only mean one thing, and judging by the expression on Kaito’s face as he rushed into the guards’ quarters, it means the crown was stolen. As everyone dashes out the front gate, following the thieving trio, Maki finds herself being stopped. “Hey who said you were going?” Kaito asks.

Maki sighs, tying back her long hair so it fits neatly under her bright red hat. “They said all guards must go, so I’m going.” Even in an emergency, it seems Kaito has the time to harass her.

“Yeah, but you’re not a guard. You’re still in training.”

“Are you really planning on keeping me in training when the king has been robbed?” She gets on her horse Kurohana, and charges off through the town to the woods. There are bigger problems at hand, like that pesky thief whose been assailing the citizens of kingdoms across the globe, having finally made his way here.

She’s not left alone for long, however, as another galloping set of hooves can be heard trailing close behind her. “Yeah, but we’re not supposed to let rookies go on dangerous missions!” Kaito calls out from behind her.

“And if it were up to you, Momota, I would be a rookie for the rest of my life.” She keeps her eyes on the approaching forest, jostling the reigns. At the gesture, Kurohana speeds ahead, quickly catching up with the other guards. From behind her Kaito shouts something about how they’ll talk about this when everyone gets back, but she doesn’t care. This is her chance to prove herself. And then he’ll have to accept her position. She’ll make him.

The guards are their heels, easy to spot in the distance, as the thieving trio dashes through the woods. Doukeshi makes a quick left, and the sibling duo chases after. They don’t have too long until the guards catch up, and he knows it. “So, what exactly is the plan here?” The older sibling, Ayaka, asks, ushering her brother to hurry up. Korekiyo quits glancing behind them and catches up, but it’s clear the nerves didn’t leave him.

“Just follow me for a bit! We need to lose them for real,” Doukeshi replies, scanning the maple trees for a familiar mark—there it is. The gash he cut a day in advance. He makes a hard turn to the right, trading the small remains of a forest path for grass and ivy and dirt.

“What about the rendezvous point?” She demands. Ah yes, that. The thing that they decided on when they agreed to do this mission with him. The place they were planning to ambush him with a paid off team, take the crown, and run.

“Maybe we shouldn’t—”

“Leave the negotiating to me, little brother,” Ayaka says, edge in her tone, and that’s all it takes to silence Korekiyo once more.

“Well you can go that way,” Doukeshi says. They can all hear the sound of horses and men getting louder. “If you want to get caught, that is.” Oh, he knows all about their plan. What kind of thief is stupid enough to trust his fellow thief? Especially when he’s the most wanted thief in the land, and there’s a sizeable bounty on his head if he’s turned in. He’s ripe for betrayal, and he knows it.

The small cliffside approaches. It’s time for his counter-plan. “Now, if you want to throw them off for long enough to get to safety, I’m going to need you two to help me up. Then I’ll help you up, easy peasy, we escape, sell this for a lot of cash, and you and I part ways never to speak of this again!”

Ayaka doesn’t say anything, just holds out her gloved hand. She’s not stupid enough to let him just run off with the reward. With a dramatic sigh, Doukeshi hands the satchel over, but to Korekiyo. “Think this looks better on him,” he snickers. Korekiyo seems vaguely amused behind the mask, but Ayaka merely glares.

Still, they form a makeshift lattice to scale the minor cliff, with only the grumbling from Ayaka. The last thing she wanted to do today was be the ladder for a childish thief. She grunts when he steps badly on her shoulder, but eventually Doukeshi makes it to the top. “Now help us up.”

But Doukeshi wears a smarmy grin, and winks behind his mask. In his hands is the satchel, that he knicked from Korekiyo on the way up. “Nishishi~ I’d love to, but can’t,” he says, and leaves them behind for the woods.

The endless sea of trees outside Shuuichi’s window looks the same as it ever does, with the wind lightly tousling the leaves. Even as he cleans the windowsill for the seventh time that morning, he wonders what it would be like to walk beneath them, instead of just staring, wishing for a reality that is not meant to be his.

What should he ask for, if not the lights? He could always go for new books, but his shelves are near to bursting, and there’s no more room in the tower to add any more. Maybe a book about the lights? But just thinking of that reminds him of what he isn’t allowed to see. It wouldn’t be the same to have a book explain away such a tangible mystery for him.

Exhaling, he sits on the window sill, feet dangling over the edge of the balcony. If he wanted to, he could wrap his hair around the hook, lower himself to the ground, and make a break for it. His aunt would never know. Except she would, as soon as she got back. He can’t leave. His life begins and ends here. “Or I guess, it doesn’t begin at all.”

Maybe he’ll just read one of the books again. It’s better than staring out at the forest lost in his dreams.

The woods are easy to get lost in, an endless expanse of verdant trees, all of them far too similar unless one is familiar with the land. Luckily, Maki knows the forest pretty well, unconcerned about anything except catching her prey when she split from the group. There’s a telltale sign of boots tracking in the mud, and she knows she’s on that thief’s tail. “Faster,” she says, and Kurohana speeds ahead. She’ll catch him. She has to.

But the footprints suddenly stop. Where did he go? If she judges solely by their absence, he must be here, but she can’t see him. There’s nothing but dirt and trees.

Clang. A small rock hits her chestplate from above, and high in the branches she sees a silhouette. Doukeshi. “Looking for me?” She growls, refusing to deign him with a response. He thinks that kind of petty behavior is a little adorable, in a pathetic way. “You really gonna leave such a sweet horse? What if I steal it?”

Maki shakes her head, petting Kurohana for a moment after dismounting. “She wouldn’t go with you if you did. I’ve trained her better than that.”

“Boooring. I wanted a horse too.” Doukeshi watches her from a far up branch. She’s pretty good at climbing, finding all the same footholds he did, and grabbing all the right branches. He didn’t expect her to be so fast with that armor, but if anything, that works out better for him. An impulsive guard is easy to trick. “But y’know I don’t have the crown anymore.”

At that she stops, gazing up at him with skeptical red eyes. “It’s true I don’t!” As he says that, he opens up the satchel, revealing that it’s empty. “I mean you could capture me, but you’d still be missing the most valuable item. My partners double-crossed me.”

Maki thinks it over for a minute, but continues climbing. “Capturing you is enough.” She’s just about to reach him.

Doukeshi laughs, loud and obnoxious, revealing the crown he stuffed under his jacket. “That’s a good call Guard-chan.” Just before she can snatch him, he takes the crown, stuffs it back in the bag, and tosses it so it snags onto a nearby tree branch. “I hope you’ve got monkey instincts then~”

“Bastard!”

He swings himself onto the nearby tree, grabs the satchel, and drops to the floor, leaving the guard still stuck in a tree behind him. There’s only so much she can handle in that armor. Clever as he is, he didn’t buy himself that much time, so he needs somewhere to hide and fast. Bolting through the undergrowth—he’s glad grass doesn’t leave tracks—he scans the nearby area, desperate to find something, anything. But there’s trees, trees, a rock, more trees, an ivy covered cave, trees—that’s it!

The dewey leaves brush past his skin as he runs through the vines, skidding to a stop in the cave. Holding his breath, he presses himself against the cave wall. She’s here. Against the vines is the silhouette of a person on a horse. ‘Go away, go away, go away’ he pleads silently, to himself. He’s almost free. A minute passes, and then she’s gone. Exhale. Relief floods his body.

Now, where is he? No longer in a rush, he wanders from the small cave to a grassy plain. And at the center of it all is—“whoa!”—a tower. It looms large over the field, even rivaling the height of some of the nearby trees. Who would hide a tower away in a place like this? But with the moss growing up the side of some of the stones, maybe it’s abandoned. It’s a good place to hide out for a while.

Fumbling around for the stakes in his pocket, he starts to climb.

There’s more noise coming from outside the tower than usual, Shuuichi thinks. It can’t be Tsumugi; she would just call for him. So, why does it sound like someone’s outside? And grunting? Leaving the book abandoned on the bed, he slips down the stairs into the main room, grabbing the frying pan from the cooking cabinet on the way past.

If someone’s coming for him, if someone’s found him—he needs to defend himself. But can he do it? Tsumugi is right; he’s totally unprepared for this! He’s never done this before! Is he even strong enough? What if he can’t knock them out? Or there’s too many to knock out? Or both? Oh he’s so screwed if he doesn’t do this right—

A man in a mask climbs over the windowsill. This is it. He doesn’t seem to see Shuuichi, because the first thing he does is peer into his bag. “Good. We’re safe.”

And then Shuuichi whacks him over the head with a frying pan, and Doukeshi is knocked right out.

#oumasaiweek #oumasai #saiouma #Ouma Kokichi #Saihara Shuuichi #ndrv3 #hope.txt #my fic #v3 Tangled AU #dangan ronpa #if its a nightmare for grammar its cause I haven't had the chance to have it proofread #I'll fix those later #when my editor is awake #but for now #I'm late #so here it is!

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gerec · 5 years

Text

The Master of Charlton Park

Chapter 6 - Part 3

Part 1 Part 2

“Oh no I wasn’t referring to McCoy,” Marko answered, sending an impatient glare towards Raven when her hand trembled slightly as she poured his tea, “I was talking about Charles and Captain Rogers. Wasn’t that the reason for your visit? I thought, given how well you’ve always treated my stepson that you came for him? To extend your well wishes on his engagement to the Captain?”

The silence roared in Erik’s ears, deafening him to all but the sound of his own breathing as Marko’s words slowly started to sink in… Charles was engaged, and planning to marry Steven Rogers; any last hope he might have clung to were completely dashed, that his lover might change his mind eventually and return to his family at Charlton Park. But in his heart he’d always known this moment would come, fearing and dreading it even when they’d been together planning their future, never truly trusting that their happiness was meant to last.

It felt like all of the air had been knocked from his lungs, and he would have staggered had he not been sitting on the sofa, with Emma clutching him tightly by the hand. “No…we were not aware of Charles’ engagement,” Emma replied, her voice calm and steady even as the room veritably choked with tension, though Marko appeared wholly unaware – or more likely, unconcerned. “Of course that’s wonderful news for your family! You and your wife must be very pleased to have two handsome matches.” Marko scoffed. “A poor doctor and a retired army Captain? Hardly suitable for a lineage as old and storied as the Xaviers, though I suppose it’s better than the alternative. Having these two unmarried and living off the family’s remaining fortune for the rest of their lives.”

Even in his haze Erik couldn’t help but bristle at Marko’s insinuations, knowing exactly what sacrifices Charles had made to ensure the wellbeing of the Xavier household. Any other time he would have jumped immediately to the siblings’ defence, and even now his indignation on Charles’ behalf threatened to bubble to the surface, shattering what remained of his tenuous composure. Instead, his mounting ire was defused abruptly by Charles’ interjection. “I was going to tell you,” he blurted, sounding both panicked and apologetic as he tugged anxiously at his waistcoat. “Both of you. I was in the midst of composing a letter, you see, and I didn’t… I wanted to… It happened only a few days ago.” “Yes, Charles wanted to convey the information to you as soon as possible of course,” Raven added, as she stepped closer to her brother and looped their arms together in support. “You must understand that he wanted to find the right words to convey such important news, since he holds you both in such high regard.” “Well now there’s no need for a letter,” Marko said, dismissing the entire exchange with a wave of his hand. “I’m sure there are many more interesting things to discuss with Lord and Lady Lehnsherr than your pending nuptials!” It took great restraint on Erik’s part not respond to his rudeness, though Emma was quick to divert Marko’s focus by playing on his vanity. “Well, if it pleases you Mr. Marko, I’ve heard so much about the history of Xavier Manor; perhaps you would agree to give me a tour of your beautiful home?” Visibly pleased, Marko promptly stood and offered Emma his arm. “It would be an honor to show you my home, my Lady. And the Earl too of course,” he added almost as an afterthought, already moving with Emma towards the door. “It cannot compare to the grandeur of Charlton Park I’m sure, but I believe that you’ll find the design to be quite impressive.” “Oh, Erik would appreciate little of the craftsmanship that goes into a fine building like this,” Emma answered, and Erik could not love her more than he did at this very moment, for diverting Marko so he could speak privately with Charles. “Darling Raven, I would love for you to join us too! You’d only be bored staying here I think, since I know Erik would rather lose himself in your library’s collection, or indulge in a chess game or two.” “Yes of course,” Raven said, reaching for Charles’ hand and squeezing it once, before trailing after the others out of the study. She offered a weak smile as she walked by, and then darted a last, reassuring glance at her brother before she hurried off, leaving Erik alone at last with a silent, somber Charles. For long moments neither of them spoke, and then Charles quickly crossed the room to shut the study door, before throwing his arms around Erik and dragging him close. He managed – only barely – to hold back a choked sob as they held each other tight, pitiably grateful that Charles appeared equally moved by their reunion. He moved instinctively, his mind still reeling, body pressing Charles up against the door as familiar hands looped around the back of his neck. Charles sagged into his arms and shuddered, before leaning close to breathe in his scent, as he’d done often during his pregnancy, seeking reassurance and safety in his alpha’s arms. It broke Erik’s heart into pieces, even as it made his blood sing. And then they were kissing as though they’d never been parted, desperate with longing and tinged with despair, lighting the spark within Erik that had been dormant since Charles’ departure. It had been so very long since they’d been intimate, and Erik wanted badly to throw caution to the wind by taking Charles right there against the study door. But Charles was already gentling their kiss and pulling away, forcing a smile onto his face as he shifted awkwardly out of their embrace. “I’m sorry, darling, but I can’t. I can’t.”

Erik sighed. “Because you’re engaged.” Charles’ eyes watered as he took a deep breath. “I’m so sorry, Erik. I had planned to tell you and soon. I never meant for you to find out this way.” Ugly, hurtful words threatened to burst forth from Erik’s lips, accusing Charles of any number of things; of being unfaithful and untrue, capable of moving on so soon and so easily from those he claimed to love. Instead, Erik bit his tongue – though he could not stand to look another second upon Charles’ sad, earnest face – and crossed the room briskly to gaze out upon the Manor grounds. “Congratulations to you and the Captain,” he said, every word like a dull knife slicing into his flesh, “I wish you and Rogers a lifetime of happiness.”

#cherik #starles #regency au #the master of charlton park #chapter 6 #part 3 #gerec writes

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seasonofthegeek · 5 years

Text

Love Keeps You Warm: Sewing

Written for Alyadrininette Week at @mlshipfleet <3

Parts 1, 2, 3:

“No resumes today?” Adrien settled down beside Marinette on the couch and immediately picked up the fabric in her lap to rub between his thumb and forefinger. “Soft.”

“I’m thinking of using it to make a sundress.”

“For you or Alya?”

She bit her lip and straightened, keeping her gaze on the fabric. “Neither actually.”

“I gotta be honest, I don’t think Nino’s going to wear a dress but if you really want to make me one, I’ll give it a shot.” He was relieved to see her smile.

“I’ll make you a dress if you want one, but this one’s for something else.” She finally looked at him. “I don’t think I’m going to send out any more resumes. Three weeks of job hunting and turning up nothing feels like a sign. I think I’m going to try to start my own thing.”

“Like your own line?”

“Kind of, but not nearly so ambitious.” She ducked her head. “I thought I would get a few pieces done and then see if Nino will photograph me and Alya in them and then set up a website.” She chewed on the edge of her thumbnail. “I’m thinking of maybe doing ‘inspired-by’ type dresses? Like dresses that look like superhero costumes and character designs and that sort of thing.”

“That sounds really cool.”

“Really?”

Adrien grinned. “Yeah, I think it’s awesome.”

Her eyes lit up. “And it wouldn’t even be limited to characters and stuff. I could do outfits based on seasons and foods and anything really!”

“You’re excited,” he said, fondness evident in his voice.

“I am.” She nodded and draped the fabric over her arm. “I was feeling a little lost but I think doing my own thing for a bit is really going to help me figure out what I need to do next. And with you and Nino booking so many events lately and Alya getting that pick-up for her blog, if I’m ever going to try to do it, now’s the time.”

He slid his arm around her shoulders. “I’m glad. I’ve got to admit you guys were scaring me with all the baby talk. I’ve been holding my breath all week since no one has brought it up again after it felt like that’s all we talked about the last two weeks.” He felt Marinette stiffen under his hold and immediately realized his mistake. “You still want that, don’t you?” he asked softly.

She took a deep breath and pulled away from him slightly so she could look at him. “Can we talk about it, just me and you?”

He shifted uneasily. “It’s not going to change anything, Mari, and I really don’t want to make you cry again.” He eyed her stricken expression. “But if you really need to talk about it, I’ll listen.”

She took his hand and gave it a grateful squeeze. “I guess I’m just wondering why.”

“Why?” he echoed.

“Why are you so sure you’re going to be a bad dad?”

“Did you really have to start with that?”

She gave him a small smile. “Figured I may as well get to the heart of it. This might be my only chance.”

Adrien ran his free hand into his hair. “You remember me when we first met, right?”

“Of course I do.”

“I was a wreck and that was me in a better place than usual for that time.”

“We were all different. We’ve grown and changed. That’s what happens,” Marinette explained gently.

“Yeah, but you guys are what keeps me sane, you know? If it weren’t for you…” He shook his head. “Look, if none of this had ever happened with us, I don’t even know if I would still be alive.”

Marinette swallowed hard. “Don’t say that.”

“I was drinking so much I rarely sobered up for very long,” he continued. “I was sleeping with anyone who would take me.” He let go of her hand to wring his together. “I thought about ending it a few times but then I would think about how upset it would make Nino and…” He took in a shaky breath. “It felt like he was the only one who cared about me for so long and I know I have you guys now and it’s better but sometimes I still worry that I’m going to fall back into that mindset.”

“Maybe you could talk to someone,” she offered. “We all could, if it would help.”

“I don’t do therapy. My mom forced me into it after the divorce and it just…it wasn’t for me.”

“Adrien…”

“Please don’t push this, Marinette.”

She felt her eyes sting and tried to hold back the tears she knew were coming. “So that’s it then. If it’s not something you want, it’s not worth working through.”

Adrien clenched his jaw. “And what happens if I say yes and go through therapy and still don’t want a baby? Is that when you guys dump me?”

Marinette pulled back as if he’d dealt her a physical blow. “Of course not!”

He stood stiffly. “Then it doesn’t matter because that’s not going to change.” He hung his head. “I promised myself I wasn’t going to make you cry again and now look.” His shoulders slumped. “I’m sorry. Please don’t…” He shook his head. “Your dress idea is really great. I hope I didn’t bring your mood down too much. I’m really excited for you.” With that, he moved towards the hall and let himself into the other bedroom.

Marinette watched him go, feeling frustrated and heartbroken. ______________________________

“I thought I would find you here after I talked to Marinette.” Alya easily slid onto the open barstool next to Adrien. “How are you?”

“I’m an asshole.”

“You’re not an asshole.” She looked up as the bartender moved in front of her. “Whatever’s on tap.” He nodded and moved to the side and Alya returned her attention to her boyfriend. “Seriously, how are you?”

“Scared and a little drunk.”

“How many drinks have you had?”

“More than I should’ve,” he admitted, finally looking over at her. “More than a little.”

She noted the glazed look in his eyes but he was still responding to her questions so he wasn’t so far gone. She’d only seen that Adrien a handful of times and she had no desire to see him again. “Can we get a coffee over here?” she asked as soon as her drink was set in front of her.

The bartender gave her an approving nod before he eyed Adrien. “Maybe some food?”

“Yeah, a burger would be great,” she agreed.

“I’m not hungry,” Adrien muttered.

“Well, you’re going to try to eat. Besides, I’m hungry and a burger sounds good.” She reached over and put her hand on the top of his thigh. “But we don’t have to talk about anything if you don’t want to.”

He seemed to sag in relief. “Thank you for being you, Alya.”

She laughed quietly. “You know I love Marinette and Nino with all my heart but they could talk a person into an early grave.”

“I love them so much,” he whimpered as he laid his cheek on his crossed arms. “They hate me now.”

“They don’t hate you. They would never hate you,” she soothed. “This is just a rough patch we’ve got to work through.”

“Nino hardly talks to me and I keep making Marinette cry.”

Alya winced. She’d noticed the way Nino had been acting around Adrien but hadn’t brought it up in the hopes that it would smooth itself out. He wasn’t outright hostile but he was ignoring the other man when he could manage to do it without seeming openly cruel. And as far as Marinette went, she had been unusually sensitive since being let go. Any little thing seemed to send her to tears lately. “When you’re feeling up to it, maybe we can talk about some other options.”

Adrien lifted his head and propped his elbow on the bar to keep himself upright. “Options?”

“Now might not be the best time for a talk, Sunshine.”

He gave her a slow blink. “What kind of options?”

She groaned but turned more towards him on her stool. “Well, I know you said you don’t want to be a dad but are you opposed to Nino being one?”

Adrien frowned, brow puckering. “No, not really. Nino would be great with kids.”

“What about me and Mari? Would you mind us being moms?”

His expression was already soft with drunkenness but somehow it softened even more. “No, you’d be perfect.”

“Then maybe it would be okay. You don’t have to be anything you don’t want to be. Do you understand?”

“That would be weird though.” He scrubbed at his face.

“We aren’t exactly normal.” She offered him a gentle smile. The burger and fries was set in front of them and Alya gave the bartender a nod of thanks. “No decision needs to be made right now, but it’s something to think about.” She cut the burger in half and slid the plate between them. “Now eat and then we’ll go home.”

“I love you.”

She winked at him. “I know you do.” ______________________________

“Hey.” Alya shook Nino’s shoulder gently. “Wake up.”

He rolled and blinked groggily at her. “What’s going on?”

“I want you to go sleep in the other room with Adrien.”

Marinette grumbled in her sleep and curled in closer to Nino. He frowned up Alya. “I was already sleeping in here. I’ll talk to him tomorrow.”

“You’ll go in there with him tonight. You don’t have to talk but you’re sleeping with him. Come on.” She pulled up the edge of the blankets and Nino yanked them back down.

“You’re going to wake up Marinette.”

“A hurricane wouldn’t wake her up right now,” Alya countered. “Out of bed, Lahiffe, or I’m dragging you out.”

He narrowed his eyes. “No.”

She raised an eyebrow. “Fine.” She went to the end of the bed and reached under the blankets, quickly finding his ankle and pulling.

Nino kicked out and scrambled upright before she could yank him off the bed. “Damn it, fine,” he swore. He picked his glasses up off the nightstand and slid them on. “This is a crappy thing to do though.”

“The way you’ve been treating him is crappy.”

He glared at her but quickly dropped his eyes. “I just don’t know how to deal with him right now.”

“Well, he doesn’t know how to deal with you either so it’s a match made in hell,” she huffed. “He’s probably already fallen asleep.”

Nino finally stood and reached for his robe. “Has he been drinking?”

“What do you think?”

His shoulders sagged. “Did you get him water and aspirin?”

Alya felt her irritation give way at Nino’s thoughtfulness. “No, but that’s probably a good idea.”

“I’ll get it.”

She reached up and kissed his cheek. “Goodnight, Nino. I hope you both sleep well.”

“Yeah, yeah.” He turned away but then turned back to kiss her. “I love you even though you can be a pain.”

“Right back at you, babe.”

He shuffled out of the room and down the hall to the kitchen. He ran a glass under the faucet and grabbed the bottle of aspirin. The temptation to sleep on the couch was heavy but he pushed through the door of the second bedroom to find Adrien still fully clothed and curled in on himself on top of the blankets. “Are you awake?”

There was a long pause and then Adrien whispered, “Yes.”

“I brought you some water if you’re thirsty.”

“I’m okay.”

Nino set the glass and bottle on the nightstand and sat down on the edge of the bed. The heavy bar smell of cigarette smoke and stale alcohol floated up to his nose. “Come on, dude. Undress and drink some water.” He tugged on Adrien’s shoulder and the other man rolled into him easily with a sob, curling around him.

“I’m so sorry. Please don’t leave me, Nino. Please don’t leave me.” His words slurred and Nino felt his heart break as Adrien began to shake. He held him as close as he could in the awkward position.

“Never,” he promised.

#Alyadrininette Week #alyadrininette #bread makes you fat

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